On the Shores of Ursius
by PaxtonProphet
Summary: (AU) After losing his mother, Frederick tries to bring meaning back into his life, but this quest leaves him in a lot of trouble.
1. Prologue

"You worry too much." The grizzly's voice was stern and just. She knew he spoke the truth, but could quell her splashing blood. "It's not good for the Cub, Gaia." The Male Grizzly before Gaia, a female with cub near eight months, was her husband, Gerard. He was dark furred, contrasted to his wife's light caramel coat, and very spry. His eyes glowed grey in the moon which hit the deck of their current residence upon the merchant ship named 'The Moore Runner.' They were just leaving port near the island of Solace, headed home to Ursius for their people's spirit festival. Gaia had hoped to leave sooner than they had, but having her in her current state made finding safe arrangements difficult for Gerard. Thankfully, their family friend, Oslow, was leaving for Ursius on his own vessel and his trustworthiness beside his long term care for the family made everything better.

Gaia rested against the wooden rail, staring out into the endless abyss of ocean. "I know," she breathed, "But I don't like sailing. You know this. The cub doesn't like it either. He kicks hard every night we spend aboard a ship, be it your fishing dingy or this old heap." She patted the rail gruffly before turning towards the hatch that lead down below deck. "I haven't slept in days because of him. I'm sure he's just as tired. How much longer, Gerard?" Gerard wished he could soothe his wife beyond reassurance, but he couldn't. They still had near a week aboard 'The Moore Runner.'

"I wish I could advance time, love. We have many days longer. We'll be home for the festival, though. I promise you that."

"And you've yet to break a promise, but I don't care if we make it for the festival. I want our cub to be born where I was. He deserves to have his first memories be of home, not some rolling boat in the middle of the ocean."

"You still have some weeks to go, Gaia."

"You heard what Mother Caroline said. He's ready to be born. The normal term of pregnancy doesn't at all matter after the fifth month." Gerard sighed, wrapping a gentle arm about his wife's frame. He rested a paw atop her swollen belly just to feel a bump from his yet to be born son. In honesty, Gerard didn't care where the cub was born. He simply wanted to see him, more so sooner than later, yet he knew how much the birth being on Ursius mattered to Gaia. He'd do what he could to make it happen. A cool breeze grazed the deck and Gaia found herself wrapping her blue shaw about her shoulders and white dress. Her azure eyes fluttered closed as she nuzzled deep into her husband's fluff.

"We should get below. Perhaps he's calm enough tonight to let us both sleep?" Gaia felt a soft scrape from inside her and laughed.

"I don't think so. He's as edgy as his father." Gerard merely rolled his eyes and hugged Gaia's shoulders, leading her down below deck where a few other passengers were stowed. The Moore Runner was a smaller vessel and couldn't house more than a few. Besides the Crew, there were about five other passengers making the trip to Ursius. One was a white Vixen, older and fidgety with her paws. She wore a grey dress, very worn, and traveled with a younger Vixen of the same color. Their resemblance aroused the idea of them being mother and daughter. Another passenger was a black bear who had introduced himself as 'Blake.' He was a calm and collected young cub who found comfort around Oslow, Gaia, and Gerard. He could strike civilized conversation about a variety of topics and Gaia found herself always interested in his stories. Gerard didn't pay him much attention, but would sit and listen from time to time. Finally, there was a Brown female Shepherd with her little puppy. The mother's name was Sheila and her son was Mike. Mike was only two, but loved to feel Gaia's stomach and wait for the cub to kick or move. He'd squeal and giggle when he did, which always brought a joyful spark to Gaia's eyes. She hoped her son would be that way, loving, energetic, and gleeful.

They proceeded below deck to their small area where a hammock had been set up for Gaia as to ease the tension on her back. On the floor close by was a cot for Gerard so that he was in arms reach of his wife. Gaia gladly climbed into her spot and Gerard slowly into his place by her.

* * *

"Not hungry, love?" The sudden question startled Gaia from her thoughts. She held her spoon above her plate of candied yams and carrots, letting it hover there while she day-dreamed. Gaia laughed softly, jabbing the silverware into her meal.

"Oh, sorry Gerard. I was just thinking." Gerard raised a brow.

"About what, love?"

"Many things. Mainly about how, maybe, it would be nice... if our cub was born before the festival. Don't you think it's be wonderful for him to see it all? And then, I was also thinking about... names... We haven't settled on one and I'm so close, Gerard. Why is that?" Gerard put his spoon down and clasped a paw over Gaia's which now rested on the table.

"Nothing suiting has come to us. Many things need to be considered when thinking of names, Gaia. We want his name to suit him, suit the way he looks and the personality he has. It's already been established that he's very restless, like me, but his looks might not agree with any named from my family line."

"Do we have to follow that trend?"

"What trend?"

"Naming cubs after which parent they are most like. What if I'd much rather have a name that isn't in our family histories, but it suits him perfectly?"

"Do you have any such names in mind, love?" Gaia sat in thought for the longest time, picking up her spoon once more and spinning it between her pads. That type of fiddling always helped her thoughts. After a while, she set the object down.

"Maybe Gabriel, or Luis, or..." She stopped, a gentle smile creeping across her muzzle. "Frederick... I think I actually like that one..." Gerard rolled his silver eyes.

"Gods, there was never a name I hated more. Every person I have ever met with the name Frederick has been bitter and ill-tempered." Gaia snarled at him.

"Just coincidence. It's all about life experiences." She stopped and ran her paw over her stomach. "I promise, I'll never let terrible things happen to you, my dear." Gerard sighed, knowing how his wife's heart functioned. When she set her mind and her heart to something, there was no turning her around. This very trip proved just that, not that Gerard needed any convincing after three years of binding to the female grizzly.

"If it's what you want, love." Gaia grinned in victory.

"So, Frederick it is."

"Don't expect me to embrace it." Gaia snarled at him again.

"You better just as you'll embrace HIM." Gerard knew when to back down. There was no getting around Gaia. The male grizzly merely sighed, kissing the female's muzzle before returning to his meal. Gaia held her head high in pride, digging her spoon into the candied yams and swallowing a greedy mouthful. Gerard rolled his eyes and finished what was left on his plate before scooting it away. Gaia followed soon after, finishing her meal in record time. Oslow, a white bear and captain of the vessel, laughed at her new sense of vigor and went to sit in front of the couple.

"Why so prideful, Gaia?" he asked, a thick south-Solace accent staining his tongue. Gaia grinned at him, holding her chin to the clouds.

"I named my cub."

"Really?"

"Yes, to my husbands disdane, his name is Frederick." Oslow slowly shook his head, eyeing Gerard. The male grizzly only shrugged, scraping his claws along the wooden table top. "Where are we right now, Oslow?" The polar bear straitened.

"Well, we shouldn't be far off from Ursian waters, but we still have some days to go before reaching port. Do you think he can wait that long?"

"I hope so," said Gaia, continuously stroking her stomach. Oslow, took up both plates from the table and walked them over to the Chef, who was a young crow, newly appointed to The Moore Runner and going through his ranks. Gaia couldn't remember his name, something along the lines of Cable, or Cade, but it didn't really matter. The boy wasn't a kind young one. He seemed ever bitter and showed great disdane for everyone besides himself and a select few. Oslow was one of those select few as the crow showed a grudging respect for him. He took the plates and tossed them into a bucket of sud to be washed along with the other wares used by the crew and other passengers.

Gaia stood, slowly righting herself and finding quick balance on the rolling ship floor. Before Gerard could even stand to help her, the female was already to the stairs and making her way above deck. Though she hated sailing, Gaia would have much rather been above deck than below. Below was so dingy and smelled of oils. Many of the crew that found refuge there were often stench riddled, adding to the wafting concoction which insulted her muzzle. At least above deck she could see the sky and smell fresh air, albeit salty. When she set paw on deck, her lungs filled with a bundle of light, cool air. It made her smile and even relaxed her as much as it could with her blunt dislike of the ocean. It wasn't really the ocean she disliked, to be honest. She didn't like sailing on it. For looks and swimming, it was a lovely thing, but when it came to small boats trudging through the open waters with little protection aside from a few cannons that would do little against a Man-o-War class, she felt overly exposed and more close to death than she could in a cellar full of gun wielding drunks. The most worrying part of it all was that Man-o-War classes were becoming more and more common among pirates. Be it that they acquire them legally, which was rare, or stole them from their rightful crew, Pirates were getting ahold of these powerful monsters of the seas and that made water travel overly hazardous. Had she not been with cub, Gaia could have braved through the worries, but now she was holding out for more lives than her own. Yes, she worried just as much about Gerard, but Gerard made it clear to her that if it came to it, he'd gladly give up his life to give their son a chance. As much as that moved her, Gaia wouldn't have like it either way. She wanted her son to have a normal life, that meaning that he had a mother and a father.

Gaia leaned over the rail as she had the night before, hoping to catch a glimpse of ocean life just below the glass cover, but the vibrant dwellers below that had been following them lately were nowhere in sight. That was disheartening. "Why aren't you there when I want to see you, friends?" she whispered to the waves. A paw came to rest on her back and Gaia leaned back into Gerard's touch. "The fish aren't following anymore," she sighed. Gerard's ears went flat against his head.

"Really? That's too bad. I was hoping to get a better look at them today for a painting when we made it Ursius." Gaia could tell that this was not the reason Gerard became grave. She knew her ways around her husband.

"What's the matter? Why have they stopped following? You're a fisherman. You should know," Gaia persisted. Gerard shook his head, leaning over the rail and peer into the glossy aqua below.

"There are many reasons for them to stop following. Predators, recent naval activity. There's no telling. Don't worry over it Gaia, we're-"

"Man-o-War to the starboard side! She's hoisting a black flag!" The look-out blared from his nest atop the main-mast. Oslow rushed on deck and to the right side of the ship. Gaia and Gerard followed, glaring out at the horizon where a Man-o-War had appeared. Even from this distance, Gaia could easily see the great size of her, noting the marvels about a Man-o-War her husband had spoken of many times. Oslow turned to the helmsman, eyeing the labrador cautiously.

"Keep steady! She's might not see us," he warned. Gerard hissed at the remark.

"Are you kidding? We're hoisting the Ursian flag! She's sees us!" The Ursian flag was a bright blue cloth dotted with golden stitched stars in a pattern much representing a paw. The stitching shimmered in sunlight like stars do in the night sky, but that beautiful work didn't always mean well upon mariners. Slowly, Gaia could see the ships form changing on the horizon. She was turning. Weather it was towards them or away, she couldn't tell. The look-out could, though.

"She's after us!"

"Damn it!" Oslow smashed his paw down on the rail. Gaia swore she heard the wood splinter. "Full sail! We're smaller and numble! We might be able to outrun her."

"You'll end up killing us!" Gerard roared, "We're near the reefs! One slip and we'll be grounded and unable to move anywhere. There's no telling these scoundrel's intentions. Wait for the warning shot!"

"Why?"

"If she fires a warning shot, she wishes to board and won't try to damage us. If she doesn't, then she wishes to sink us for sport and we'll know what we're dealing with. You were right, we're numble, and a Man-o-War class needs a clear broadside to sink us. We can avoid that until getting into the Ursian Naval patrol not to far off."

"And what if they wish to board?"

"We try to talk our way out. It's the best we can do. No sails. Wait."

"Whatever you say, but if they board, you're the one talking. Raise the sails! Full stop!" The crew jumped to their posts, taking up and securing the sail in record time, almost that to match the Ursian navy. The secured the rigging then stopped dead where they were, going silent and perking their ears. For long moments, they listened. There was but the rolling of aqua waves long the hull of The Moore Runner. Salty splashes kicked over the rails. Then, there was a sound matching that of thunder. A cannon ball splashed down just ahead of The Moore Runner's bow. Something deep inside Gaia nearly burst. Her heart thumped rapidly against her ribs like it were trying to break free. She tightly gripped Gerard's paw.

"I hope you know what you're doing."

"I hope so, too. Get below, love. Warn the others. Try not to instil panic." Gaia nodded, quickly trotting below deck. Many of the others there were alit with confusion, hearing the man screams from above and noticing the ship's sudden stop.

"Gaia," came Sheila, Mike close at her tail, "What's happening?" Gaia took her paw and lead her over to the other passengers who Gaia persuaded to sit and relax.

"We've just encountered some trouble with local mariners in the area. Oslow and Gerard are going to speak with their Captain and we'll be on our way. For now, we need to stay below deck and out of the way in case male aggression starts to peak." Gaia tried to sound at ease, but that distress in her eyes seemed to give clear indication as to the severity of the situation. They all sat in tense silence, some holding paws and others wringing their own out of nervous habit. Gaia clenched her paws into fists, only able to think of one thing: Frederick. The little cub was moving around an awful lot inside her. Perhaps he sensed his mother's distraught. It was getting to become really uncomfortable, actually. Sheila took hold of Gaia's paw.

"Are you alright, sweetie?" she asked, eyeing Gaia with caution.

"Yes, the cub's just a little antsy," she breathed. Sheila nodded but didn't release the grizzly's paw. Her ears perked to Gaia's every breath, noting that something was, in fact, wrong with her. Or, rather right but not at a good time.

"Gaia, honey."

"Yes?" the Grizzly breathed.

"I think you're close. It won't be long before your water breaks."

"oh, not now..."

* * *

The Man-o-War floated into position alongside The Moore Runner and the crew aboard it attached the still lines to the smaller ship's deck railing. In moments, crew members from the Man-o-War dove onto the smaller deck and brandished gold plated flint locks and muskets. Most of them were either Foxes or Dogs with the exception of a few lizards, one lynx, and a black bear. Most of them were uniformed unknowingly, wearing nothing special to indicate high rank. The captain wasn't among them. "Get everyone on top deck now!" barked the Lynx, flashing a pistol at Oslow. He wore a red sash around his waist and navy trousers. His fur was a light grey with black stripes and spots about his thin body. "You daft? I said, get everyone on deck!"

"Where's your Captain?" Gerard was being bold in asking this, but he needed to negotiate with the one giving orders. The Lynx moved the Pistol to aim at the Grizzly.

"Who's to say I'm not the Captain?"

"Hardly even a laugh. You don't have the decoration nor the scars to be a Captain, let alone one to commandeer a Man-o-War. We'll do as you ask, but I just wish to speak to the Captain."

"You want to see how capable I am, fluffy?" He pressed the pad of his paw to the trigger and went to fire, but before a round left the gun, the Lynx's wrist was yanked up, firing the lead ball into the air. He who had a hold of the boy's wrist was a Pirate, very aged, but far from elderly. He was an almost crimson fox with a white belly, visible under his holster straps and long coat. The tip of his tail was also white along with his muzzle. The bright eyes which shone under his cap were green, glowing luminously. He stood up to his full height, about as tall as Gerard if not for the cap.

"This gentleman makes a polite request and you aim to shoot him without even considering it?" he asked, voice cold and smooth. He turned his muzzle to breath into the face of the Lynx. "This," he barked, yanking the boy's wrist, "Is why you do not rise in rank, kitten! Stand down and return to the ship!" He released him and the youngling scurried back to their vessel, the snickers and jeers of the crew following him the entire way. The Captain, as it seemed, looked at Gerard and removed his black hat, revealing white-tipped ears, his left badly damaged by what looked like gunfire. "Now, why don't you get everyone on deck and we'll talk, hmm?" Gerard nodded and looked to Oslow who opened the grate and trotted down the stairs. "What is your name, Ursian?" asked the Captain.

"Gerard Fazbear."

"I'm Captain Leopold Fox. What is your destination?"

"Ursius for the Soul Festival." Leopold nodded, holding his paws behind his back, asking no other questions. They waited a little while longer before Oslow returned. The look on his muzzle was grave. "What is it?" asked Gerard. Oslow gulped.

"It's your wife. She's gone into labor."

"What?!" Gerard hissed through his teeth. "Now?!"

"Yes, now! Her water broke just moments ago."

"What is it? Is there a problem, gentlmen?" asked the Captain, approaching the two of them. Gerard smallowed hard, looking the Fox in the eyes.

"You see, I came aboard this ship with my wife who is with cub. She's eight months along and I'm afraid she's gone into labor." The Captain's eyes softened deeply, ears falling in some form of defeat. He turned to his crew and waved one paw. With strange looks all around, they turned and slowly climbed back aboard their own ship. He turned back to Gerard.

"Is she below deck?"

"Yes sir."

"Let me see her." The command made Gerard's stomach plummet. His breath hitch in his throat and all he could utter was a soft squeak. "I don't intend on hurting her. I just want to see... I have a Vixen, you see, on the island Lenaus. She's far along with a kit by my blood, so I am as well a father to be. If you just let me see her, I'll let you on your way, nothing taken, no one harmed." Gerard stood for but a moment before answering with a shaken nod. They took the Captain down to the lowest deck where a circle had formed around Gaia. Gerard broke through the Circle with Leopold close behind, to sit at his Wife's side. He was passed strange looks, but the Fox managed to find a good place to watch. Oslow moved around so that he was at Gaia's feet. The female was already lain out and breathing heavily.

"Get me a blanket!"

* * *

_He was so beautiful. He had his father's fur and my eyes, and according to Oslow, a strong set of lungs. He bleated and cried so loud that poor little Mike even started crying. When I took him into my arms, the way he nuzzled into me made my heart flutter like one million butterflies. he clung to me with his tiny claws. The way his paws were too big for him made me giggle. Everything about him was so beautiful. I cried. Gerard cried. I swear that even Oslow shed a tear for that little cub. How could we not? Hours of labor and pain finally producing my little miracle. All I could do for so long was rock him in my arms and kiss his soft muzzle. When I finally let Gerard hold him, he couldn't hold it in any longer. He let loose a wave of sobs, cries of joy and he held our cub in his arms. Little Frederick grabbed at his father's nose and chest scruff, whining a little before getting comfortable in his arms. After that, he simply went to sleep, breathing quietly in lull from Gerard's heart-beat. There was never a moment in my life more beautiful than that. There are hardly words to describe that which I felt._

_Good luck, sweetie._


	2. Chapter 1: Coffee and Water

The bottle-neck twisted in his paw, rolling between the pads of it. The tips of his claws scratched the glass with a shrill whine. He wasn't entirely there, having alcohol taken him over the deep end and drowned him in its intoxication. He'd been like that for days, loathing in self-pity and barren misgivings. If there was any avenue for his depression to take, he couldn't see it through the haze. He couldn't even see strait. Slowly, the door of his bedroom creaked open, letting in a harsh blast of light from hallway. In his doorway, a figure stood and stared at his aloof posture. It shook its head and walked over to the lamp at his bedside. He picked up a match from the table and lit the lamp which caused the drunk to clench his crystal irises shut. "Frederick," came the worn voice of a male Ursian. Freddy opened one eye, trying his ability to focus on details. He could see the graying fur on the male's muzzle which nearly matched his eyes. The Ursian grabbed Freddy by his paw, the one hold the half-empty liquor bottle, and yanked him to the floor. It was just enough to wake him slightly. He stumbled to his feet and clutched his temple before sitting up against the bed.

"'ey, dad... Still as abusive s'ever," the younger bear slurred, digging his claws into the side of his head. "What're you doing here?" The older male grunted, picking up an empty bottle from the floor surrounding Freddy's bed.

"Seeing if my lame-ass son is finished with his self-loathing, but it seems you're far from it!" He threw the bottle to the floor, smashing it into thousands of shards, some of which dug into Freddy's arm and side. He didn't care. He could hardly feel it. "Do you know how selfish you're being right now? Thinking you're the only one who loved her? You know what? I would have loved to have my son with me at her funeral. I would have loved to have you with me at her grave. I would have loved to have you with me for the past week when I was alone and having to sleep in an empty bed for the first time in over twenty years. I would have loved some loving words, some caring reassurance, and more than anything, I would have loved to be able to help you through this, too. Yet, all that seems too much for you to give. You can't look away from your own sorrow for two seconds to worry about the family you still have left!" Freddy kicked a bottle aside, glaring at the older bear with his crystal eyes.

"I dunno if you've noticed, but I like t'be alone. We all grieve in our own ways." Gerard kicked a bottle across the room, smashing it against a wall. He grabbed hold of Freddy's paw and yanked him to his feet.

"Come on."

"Where're you attempting t'take me?"

"Just listen to me for once in your worthless life, will you?" Gerard yanked again and this time his son followed, stumbling a little down the stairs before making it to the door. When it opened, harsh sunlight bore down on him like a demon, burning his fur and eyes. He shielded what he could with his free paw, the other being pulled by his father down the sidewalk along where his home sat. Once his eyes had adjusted, he began to slowly take in the normal look of the city. The streets were made of cobble-stone and oil lamps lined the curbs. Store fronts built from stone rose from the cold streets to a copper roof. The windows were of diamond designs, held together by metal strips. Each door was old and wooden with black steel accents such as door hinges and smaller windows. Gerard pulled Freddy a long ways down the street, onto another around a corner before turning into a cafe tucked snugly between a boutique and flower shop. The plants being sold right outside said flower shop were vibrant blue, dotted with darker blue spots. Freddy recognized them and highly despised them at the moment. He remembered his mother always keeping them around the house, often in the bedrooms or dining room. They were her favorite. Gerard pulled him into the cafe and sat him down at a booth before sitting in front of him and waiting for the waitress to finish clearing a near-by table. "We'll get you some water and coffee then talk, okay?" Freddy clutched his head.

"Talk about what?" he inquired, trying to articulate more clearly. Gerard snorted at him.

"Your mother. You're avoiding it. You're avoiding people in general because almost everyone in town knew her and you don't want to hear about it. You're running from the fact that she's gone, Frederick, and that's not healthy." The waitress, a young, yellow-feathered hen, finally returned, looking at Freddy with some surprise. She wore a white dress covered in strange little squares and lines that resembled confetti. The feathers atop her head were combed over to one side like a wave.

"Freddy. I haven't seen you in days. How are you?" She asked.

"Hey, Chica... I'm fine..." he breathed, avoiding eye contact. The Hen looked over to Gerard with populous droves of sympathy.

"I'm sorry to hear about Gaia. We're all going to miss her."

"Can we just get some coffee," Freddy broke in, not allowing his father to respond. Chica nodded and turned back to the kitchen. Gerard eyed his son angerly.

"Watch your tongue, cub," he growled, "However bad you think this is for you, it gives you no right to behave so rudely, especially towards your friends." Freddy only huffed, resting his head against a fist as he looked through the window. The sky was clear, not a cloud dotting its canvas. The sun moved slowly along in the morning light, casting away the shadows among street corners and alley ways as though they were cut-throats at the swords end of a Galleon Master. "Must you make this so difficult?" asked Gerard, pulling Freddy from his thoughts. His voice was calmer, quieter and urging. It was almost pleading. For what, Freddy wasn't sure. "I know what she meant to you, and I know I wasn't always there, but, Freddy, I still love you. You're my son. I can't come close to the bond you and her had, but I, at the least, want to help you get over this."

"You don't get over losing someone you love. You just get used to them not being there..." Silence engulfed them. Gerard didn't really know what to think of his son at the moment. The cub was shifting in mood faster than a pregnant female.

"Okay, guys, here's your coffee." Chica had returned with two metal cups, setting one down in front of each bear. She also set a bowl of sugar in the middle of the table with a flask of cream. "You need anything else?"

"Maybe some water for moron here? He's going to have a terrible hangover later." Chica put down her serving tray, eyeing Freddy with her pink irises.

"Drinking again? Seriously? You said you stopped months ago!"

"Old habits come back with a vengeance." The hen sighed, picking up her tray and walking back to the kitchen. She returned moments later with another metal cup, setting it down gruffly in front of him. Some of the liquid splashed onto his muzzle, causing him to lick it off after she'd left. "Bitch," Freddy grumbled. Gerard leaned over the table and popped Freddy's muzzle hard with his paw, dragging a claw over his cheek.

"You don't talk about women that way. I raised you better. You're not one of those using bastards. She cares about you and you'd be wise to hold people like that close on this long road you're going down." Gerard took a sip of his coffee. "Also, she's going to be your new co-worker."

"What?"

"You're taking up a job here. No arguments. It'll help you take your mind off things."

"Dad-"

"No. Arguments."

"But-"

"Frederick."

"I'm twenty years old. I can-"

"Get a job and stop relying on me to pay your bills every month. You need this for more than just therapy. Now, Drink your water and coffee and we'll go see Scott about that job."


	3. Chapter 2: Heir

_AN~ I know it's been a while, but I haven't even turned on my computer in DAYS. To be honest, though, I have no idea where this fan fic is going to go. I Need ideas, truth be told. I know what kind of story I want, but not any of the filler. No, I do not draft. I just write as a go along. That's how 'Man inside the Monster' was, and it turned out okay, I guess. Happy New year, by the way._

* * *

Leopold's claws dug into his desk, latching into the wood with deep marks. His nerves couldn't have been more porciline. The reason being for it was that, Leopold had lived a long, fruitful life. He'd done many memorable things, some to be proud of, others not so much. Either way, he'd lived long and done much. His time was coming to close. His old bones couldn't continue to grind down on the deck of this ship which he'd been captain of for over thirty years. All things came to an end, but sometimes there were beginnings which followed suit. This was one of those times. There came a knock on Leopold's cabin door, which he answered with but a loud grunt, beconing whoever it was to enter his space. He who entered was a crimson Fox much like himself, but where Leopold was white, this kit was a pink-like red. For the son of a pirate captain, he wasn't dressed considerably glorious, having but a pair of brown trousers to cover his lower half.

Leopold hadn't known the kit for a long while in his life, seeing as he had been at sea for the first few years. When he returned to a fourteen year old Foxy, he wasn't exactly welcomed with open arms. The kit wanted nothing to do with him and leopold swore that his son tried his best to act as though he wasn't even there. It was slow-going getting that behavior to change, but after some time, Foxy began to show something akin to respect for his father and perhaps some grudging admiration. Now, Foxy was twenty years of age. The kit was still growing in maturity, but was well enough off that Leopold trusted him with many responsibilities. He'd never take his son to battle, but the kit knew his way around a ship and could do many of the crewman tasks even better then the crew themselves.

"Sit Foxy," Leopold comanded sternly, pointing a claw at a posh sofa to the right of his desk. The kit did as he was told and slumped on one of the cushions, more leasurely than his father would have wanted, but he didn't know why he was here, so the seriousness was void to him. "I know this was on short notice... I'm sure you're very buisy with... drinking and such like most youths around your age, but this is something I've been meaning to do for over a year now." He stopped in front of Foxy and glared down at him with his sea-blue irises. The younger fox stared back with his golden beams, lightly glazed with curiocity and overall filled with bordom. "What have you considered, career wise?"

Foxy scratched his muzzle. "Nothin' t'all." His accent was thick like his mother's. Leopold wanted to roll his eyes at that, but perhaps it was a good thing.

"Well, I suppose that makes things slightly easier. Foxy, I've been all over the place, traveling on this ship most of my life. This vessel has been in our family sinse my great grandfather stole her from an Ursian Navel yard many years ago. I don't want this to end with me. Seeing as you're my first born, I'd say you're the fittest candidate to inherit her, now." Foxy's eyes went wide. He sat up strait, restraing the urge to jump from his seat.

"Really?" he yipped, almost child-like. Leopold hadn't expected such enthusiasm, considering that his son was widely aware of the challenge being a Captain presented. Maybe he was actually ready for it. Maybe he was just blissfully ignorant. Either way, it was a good start. "Are ye sure?"

"Is there a problem with my decision?"

"Nay, sir, s'jus', we were ne'er on t'best terms..."

"I know... But, Foxy, I thought that our relationship has greatly matured over the past few years and that we could finally advance to a more respectible fetter. You're my son. I have been neglecting my parental role for a long time, now I think it's time for me to make up for many of these lost years by giving you something you rightfully deserve and have earned." Leopold place a paw atop Foxy's head, scratching at the patch of scruff that always stuck out between his ears. "We must do this formally, though, before the crew. They must bare witness." He took Foxy's wrist and stood him up, walking him to the cabin door with an arm around his shoulder. They stepped out onto the deck of their Man-a-War, now docked off the coast of Meram, an island not far from Ursius. "At Attention, mates!" Leopold barked, drawing the eyes of all on deck. "I have a special announcment for all of you to hear and an event to bare witness." The entire crew dropped their tasks and made a semi circle around the two. "On this day, in view of the entire Crew of this vessel, on the shores of Meram, I relinquish my comand of this ship and hand it down to my heir, Foxy, first born of my seed." A low murmer escaped the crew before the initial cheer, bewildered face about the crowed.

Not all where welcome to the sudden change.


	4. Chapter 3: I'd like that

"Freddy, you're missing some," Chica warned, picking up some of the metal plattered that Freddy failed to collect. The grizzly rumbled a curse and took the items from the female, almost in a snatch. Chica mearly rolled her eyes and walked but a few feet away. She needed to keep working, yet still keep an eye on her new co-worker. Yes, the bear was a hard worker. He tried his best, but one thing she knew he needed to work on was communication. Freddy wasn't exactly kind towards certain breeds of customer. They just pulled at his cords untill they snapped and thus, so did Freddy. She nor Scott could really blame him for his current state. His mother meant the world to him and now she was gone.

After but a few hours, the number of patrons began to dwindle. Things began to relax considerably, meaning well for Freddy's frail temper. He sat down in one of the empty booths and pinched the top of his snout which was curled into a snarl. There was a slight creak as someone sat in front of him. His crystal eyes fell upon his co-worker, Bonnie, the cook. He tried a forced smile, but got nothing in return. Bonnie was a rather spry induvidual, not much smaller than Freddy but still as thin around the waste. He was a purple rabbit with ears slightly larger than the norm. Many could make the comment on how rediculous they looked on him, but they didn't. Bonnie was a kind person and everyone knew it. He was very popular around Ursius. Not to mention Chica's lover, and she was also a wellknown figure around those parts.

"How are you holding up?" he asked, tapping the pad of his paw on the table. Freddy only snorted at him, digging his claw into the side of his muzzle. Bonnie's ears twitched. "Okay... bad then... Uh... I'm sorry... about Gaia..." Freddy's fist came down on the table, splintering the wood as he let out a heavy snarl.

"I know! Everyone is sorry! It's all they can talk about and I'm sick of hearing it! I'm sick of hearing her name! It doesn't quell my anger, nor my sadness! All it does is make it even more obvious to me that she's gone!" he collapsed on the table, sobbing passionatly whilist digging his ebony claws into the stained wood. "I wake up every morning, hoping that it was all a dream, a horrible, horrible nightmare, but... it's not... No matter how much I hope and how might I prey..." The hare reached over the table and pressed a soft paw to Freddy's shaking back.

"I could never imagine losing someone that close to me and I don't understand the grief, but, Freddy, everyone is trying to help you, show you they care. They don't know what they're doing to you. We all mean well and we all will miss her, though not as much as you and Gerard. Why don't you just go home. I'll cover for you, okay?" Freddy lifted his head, crystal eyes bloodshot and soaked.

"I can't ask you to do that, Bonnie..."

"You're not. I'm volonteering. Go home. Talk to your father, or something like that. He's a course grizzly, but he has his ways." Freddy could sometimes remember his mother saying such a thing, but he'd often refuse to believe it. Perhaps she had truth in those words. Maybe it was time to trust them.

* * *

The knock upon Gerards door came as more a blessing now than it ever had been. He'd needed company or someone to talk to for a long time, be it someone who actually willed a visit or the post-dog. Either way, he was happy to have someone there... well, untill he saw who it was. The look on his son's face read as unsure, ashamed, and hopeful all at once. Gerard wasn't sure how he felt about that. Did he get fired on his first day? That wouldn't be a surprise. "Dad... I had... a breakdown and work and they wanted me to come home and cool off before getting back to work and well... I... I wanted to spend this time with you." Gerard couldn't believe his ears, so much so that he laid them flat against his greying head.

"Am I already losing my hearing? Did I just hear my son say he wanted to spend time with me?"

Freddy growled. "I'm a wreck and I can see that now. I'm stupid. I'm ignorant. I'm lonely... and I'm lost... I need guidence and I need someone to be there for me. Who better than someone who's going through the same thing?"

"So, now our grief is euqal, cub? Now my sorrow over her is as justified as yours?"

"Dad, please!" His voice rang with the feint hint of a sob. His eyes were pleading, genuinly and... never had Gerard seen it in that cub's eyes... He was scared... His ignorance had ran its course and Freddy was actually scared... He was aimless without his mother, always relying on her tender words and support. Gerard had always scoffed at it, never wanting to tend to his son as they had, but... had it really done this much damage? There sure was a lot to fix.

"Come in, Cub." Gerard ushered his son into the house and lead him into the sitting room. The posh red sofas were still as solid and uncomfortible as Freddy remembered, but the tender look upon his fathers face was concerning him more at the moment. "Freddy, do you remember when you were on vacation, and we'd all go out on my boat on the lake and spend days out there, fishing and playing pirates?"

"I was six."

"Yes, but do you remember?"

"Yes, I remember... When life was simple and seen through the eyes of an innocent cub who hadn't a care in the world..."

"Yes, well, what if I take you fishing, but instead of my boat, we take Oslow's and he'll come with us." Freddy gave a weak smile.

"I'd like that."


	5. Chapter 4: The Moore Runner

A quiet lull of wind dove among the harbor yard, buffeting the looser items with its force, but only slightly cooling the aching workers who pressed upon their tasks repeatedly as they had been for quite a long time. A few of them knew Gerard and greeted him with a grudging respect, such as lifted chins or subtle nods. Gerard would respond in the same ways. He was anything if not a respectful male. Freddy was a meere follower, a cub just trudging at the heels of the icon that was Gerard Fazbear. He didn't mind it any. So what if the dock workers didn't recognize him? The two of them weaved through the internal structure of the yard, breaking through small docks, which bed larger figets, and smaller ones, which held meeger fishing dingies. Oslow's ship, The Moore Runner, was somewhere in the middle. She wasn't a large war-class, but she was neither small. When they reached her aged bed, Oslow awaited them on the dock. The white bear stood with pridefull posture, or as much as he could considering his old bones. He was older than Gerard.

The look upon his muzzle, previously stern and un-emotional, changed to that of surprise when he laid eyes on Freddy. "Well now, if it isn't sour-mouthed-cub. I haven't seen you sinse you cold-cocked one of my crew and left with his teeth. How old were you? Sixteen? I hold nothing against you, cub, but Dickens may still be gumming angerly at the fag." Freddy snorted at that.

"Let him be angry. I'll finish what I started. One good one across the face for every year sinse we last met. Then he'll need his food pre-chewed for him."

"Frederick!" Gerard broke in, his stern bark causing Freddy to jolt. "We're here to calm you down, not play fight club. Get on board and set up your things." Freddy snorted and did as he was told, for once. When Gerard knew he was out of earshop, he released a collected sigh.

"Things been tough?"

"It's Freddy. What do you think? The cub's as stubborn as an old tree, even worse now that Gaia's gone. She always knew how to make him move and now... He's dug himself into a rut of alcohol and bitterness. I thought he'd never end the cycle... Then... just yesterday... He came to me on the vurge of tears, begging me to comfort him in some small way. He said he'd had a break down at work and he wanted to spend some time with me to finally get over what's happened. I don't know if this'll last, but I pray that nothing bad happens."

"That cub is more like Gaia than you'd like to admit," chuckled Oslow. "He's stubborn, determined, hates to be wrong and refuses to admit he is even if he knows it. Sure, he uses those traits in the wrong areas, but she's there, Gerard. Usually people who are exactly the same don't like one another, which made his relationship with Gaia quite strange, but... maybe you can use what made you and Gaia so compatable and... perhaps... win him over. He'll come grudgingly at first, but stone walls can only last so long."

Gerard sighed once more and felt along the side of The Moore Runner. When he looked above him, her sails tugged at the roped that kept them bound. "I was hoping this ship might spur something,' he began, voice quiet. "We never told him the true story of his birth... About the pirates and this ship. He never asked. Maybe if we had told him, he would have held it in more sentimate... Hell, there are a lot of things we should have told that cub... Maybe things would be different..." Oslow gripped Gerards shoulder, his ebony claws just lightly grazing the skin below his thick fur pelt.

"Don't wish to change the past, Gerard. What's done is done. The longer you live in your memories, the more of your life you lose."

"I've lost so much because of memories... My son's childhood, to start..."

"Well, there is no getting his childhood back, but you have the here and now. He's still young. It's never too late to right your wrongs."

"We'll see if he'll let me."


	6. Chapter 5: You'll figure him out

As amusing as seeing his son's front end leaned over the deck rail, exhuming his stomach contents was, Gerard was sure that this trip was already off to a bad start. It'd only been four years sense Freddy had last been on a ship, but that still didn't explain why his sea-sickness had returned. Maybe it was the alcoholism... Or maybe he was actually drunk right now. Gerard knew as well as Freddy that Oslow kept a good supply of liquor stowed about his vessel and not only that, but Freddy also knew where many of his hiding spots were. It had been a childhood game for him as a cub to see how many he could find and tell his father, but back then, Freddy was an innocent cub with no want for the substances. Now, Freddy was grown and, surely, addicted to them. Gerard took Freddy by the thick scruff atop his head and lifted the Grizzly's muzzle. Freddy looked at him with some dreary daze and bloodshot eyes which told Gerard all that he needed to know. Knowing better than to attempt to scold him when he was drunk, Gerard took Freddy about the shoulder and dragged him below-deck to his cot. There, he laid his son down and pressed a damp cloth to his forehead.

"How is it that that one has see sickness when-"

"He's not sea-sick. He's drunk. I want you to re-hide all your liquor for me. In Places that Freddy wouldn't look. The cub's got him self a nasty taste for the stuff and it's just about ruined him. Go on, now. Please..." Oslow reluctantly nodded and took to his small hidey-holes, meaning to re-stash his small rations of whisky. Oslow himself wasn't an avid alcoholic. He drank in moderation whenever the situation called for it and kept enough for his crew to share in the same moderation. That left plenty of substance for Freddy to find and exploit. The cub _didn't _drink in moderation. "You're ruining yourself, cub. I'm trying to stop that from happening..." Gerard mumbled with a soft tongue. Freddy simply returned with his own mumble and rolled over, clenching his stomach. Gerard growled. What had he done wrong? Gerard tried his best to make sure that Freddy had grown up in a protective household, one which frowned upon such things and made it clear how they could hurt him, yet now that he was older, Freddy was partaking in almost every terrible act which his father had advised against. Gaia was also a stern mother, as soft as her disposition made her seem and Freddy listened to her. Why was he disobeying her? He was even an alcoholic when she was alive, meaning her death couldn't have caused such rebellion. Frederick's teenage years had to have been where it started. When he was thirteen, a Galleon Master had showed up at their door-step with Freddy under paw. The enforcer claimed that the cub had vandalized a small storefront. Then, at age fifteen, he came home again with an enforcer at his side, one which claimed that, this time, he had stolen a few bottles of different alcoholic substances, but when confronted about it, Freddy flatly claimed that he didn't drink any of them. Yes, they found the items and found them unopened, no less, but it was curiosity that made him want to take them in the first place. He would have certainly drank them if he hadn't been caught, or, at the very least, tasted them.

Not long after Freddy's troublesome faze began, Gaia and Gerard decided to find their son a better outlet. They tried to get Freddy into different activities, both during and after his classes, yet none appealed to him. Then, he met a small group of youths who were forming a charity choir at the local salvation thrift. At the time, Freddy refused to let his parents know of his interest, but it became evident that the cub wanted to sing. He joined them and, not a week later, Gaia and Gerard found that their son was thriving with these young-lings. He was talented, even! Gerard had walked passed the park one evening to hear a small rehearsal and Freddy was singing lead! Another thing that he'd gotten from Gaia: musical talent. For once, Gerard hadn't a worry in the world... When he heard his cub sing, all he could do was smile. Freddy was enjoying himself, as well. He loved to sing and loved hanging around the other youths which always praised him for his effort and skill. Gerard thought he had found it, his calling... Then it all fell apart. One of the youths, older than Freddy by a few years, a Shepherd, convinced the cub to come with him down to the docks. They snuck into a pub and Freddy got his first taste of alcohol. He was dragged home by another Galleon Master who threatened about the chance of a youth correctional facility. After that, Freddy didn't leave the house. He didn't sing anymore. He didn't smile. His grades in school began to plummet and Gerard always thought he smelled the feint hint of whisky on the cub's breath the few times they spoke, which were usually arguments. Yet, Gaia tried all the way to her grave to convince Gerard that Freddy wasn't lost...That they could still save their cub... Gerard always had his doubts...

Sitting besides his sleeping form now caused Gerard's ears to droop defeated, but he wasn't void of hope. Gaia hadn't ever been wrong. He still trusted her word, no matter how distant it was. The older male scuffled into the neighboring cot and stared into his son's disgraced muzzle, coated in some drying stomach-contents. He was pitiful, but not hopeless. He was only hopeless when he was dead. With that thought in mind, Gerard drifted into sleep, almost smiling had he not been aware of the challenge he was to face for the next few days.

* * *

That next morning, the younger bear awoke with a groan and ran his claws about his scalp. Gerard stirred awake, always a light sleeper, and greeted his son with a warmness he hadn't held in a while. As nice as Gerard thought he appeared, Freddy took the grin as a form of smugness. "Good morning, cub. Hungry? Thirsty? I know you could use some water, if you can keep it down." The younger grizzly snarled at Gerard and curled back up on his cot. It wasn't long before another voice, more irritating and louder than Gerard's, bore now on his flattened ears.

"Wake up, Frederick! On my ship, we all rise early. You know this. Up! Up!" Oslow's strong paws coiled around Freddy's forearms and yanked him upright. The sudden change of position rendered Freddy discombobulated for but a moment before he found his bearings and bore his teeth at the white bear. Before a single growl could be uttered, Oslow returned with a stiff smack from his free paw. "Now, don't start your attitude with me, cub. You do as you're told. I'm going to straiten you out, yet!" Fred glanced to his father and snorted.

"So this is your alternative to the navy?"

"Oh no, this is one step up from the navy. Oslow is practically family, so he can whip you up as he pleases... literally..."

"Don't be disappointed when your little tactic doesn't work." Gerard put his paws behind his back and turned to march towards the dining area with a sly grin.

"I'm already disappointed, which means I have nothing to lose. Come now, son. Do as the captain tells you." Oslow pulled Freddy along before he could respond and sat the cub down between a Grey crane with a few too many years in his belt and a Labrador who couldn't care for manners. His 'food' was sloshed over the table as though he was a typhoon just fresh of a fleet. Freddy wasn't exactly proper, but he knew better than _that. _A wooden trey was thrown down in front of him, Gerard's smug face behind it as he sat down across the table in plain view of his already miserable young. "Now, after you eat, we can spend some time together like you wanted. We can even go top-deck if you think you can handle it." This time, it was smugness. Freddy growled and shoved a heavily weighed spoon into his mouth, trying not to gag at the mushed concoction which the chef had thrown together. The slime-like garbage was an off-orange with small green swirls weaved into it. It had the texture of mucus, which didn't make it any easier to swallow. He managed two more spoon-fulls before he knew his stomach couldn't take anymore. He dropped his spoon onto the table. "Frederick," his father barked in the hard tone which he always used when addressing a wrongful act. "Finish your meal." Meal? Was he serious? Freddy looked down at the still hefty pile of goo on his tray. He looked up at his father with a childish 'do-I-have-to' expression. Gerard smiled and motioned to it as a silent 'yes-you-do.'

Freddy gulped and took up his spoon again. He collected another large pile of slush, large enough to clear a good bit of the load. Before he could envision the taste, he shoveled it into his mouth and swallowed hard. The lump on his throat took two attempts to finally drop into his stomach. 'Just one more bite,' Freddy thought to himself, scooping up the last large ball. He repeated the previous process and threw down his spoon. Before Gerard could say a word, Freddy was up and on-deck. The older Grizzly laughed and looked to Oslow who was holding his pot-belly, trying not to break with mirth. "He's a hard one," the white-bear mused, sarcastically. Gerard shook his hear, breaking his own smile and followed the other up-top.

* * *

"Don't take this the wrong way, Frederick," Gerard pleaded, standing at his son's side against the railing. "I'm trying to help you in more ways than relieving your grief. You have a lot of problems, son."

"Name all of them."

"Alcoholism, nicotine addiction, issues with authority, Pride-"

"How is pride an issue?"

"It's not in moderation, but you have too much of it for your own good. You think that, just because you're a big Grizzly, you are entitled to more than anyone else and you're not, Frederick. Listen to me, I don't know why you went down this path. I want to know, but I don't and I doubt you'll tell me, but I want to steer you off of it, even if it means climbing through brambles to do so. You are a smart, talented cub. You're like your mother in so many ways and that's one of the reasons I love you so much, but you're using what she gave you in all the wrong ways. Gaia was determined, but you come across as simply stubborn. Gaia was compassionate, but you turn that compassion into boiling rage. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I'm anti-mom."

"No." Gerard growled and pinched his snout. "Freddy, if you were the opposite of Gaia, you'd almost be me. You are so much like her that when I look at you now, I have to hold back tears. You have her eyes, her talent, her wonderful ability to see through people, something I've seen you do." Both males were fighting a war to hold back their tears. Freddy always thought that his father held him in populous disapproval, never happy with anything he did or ever could be happy no matter what Freddy could do. "I love you so much because of it. You're incredible just like her... Except..."

"What?" Freddy sniffed, prepared for whatever demeaning thing his father was about to say. Gerard merely grinned and nuzzled Freddy snout.

"Gaia always smiled." Freddy's ears flew back and he jerked away aggressively. He was below deck before Gerard could say anything to stop him. "What in hell did I say?" Oslow met him at the main-mast and shook his head.

"There is no telling with that one. The story of his mind is written all over him, but it's in some foreign language. To figure him out, you have to translate it. It'll take time, Gerard. No amount of loving words is gonna change that cub just like that." Oslow snapped his pads. "Give him a little room to air out."

"You haven't failed me yet, friend."

"I went through something a lot like this with Ismene, but she was much younger. She'd gotten Pregnant at fifteen while I was away and had gotten addicted to many things. It took me a long time to get her out of it, but now that cub's got a stable income, a daddy who loves her son and she is as happy as happy can get. You'll figure him out, Gerard."

* * *

_"Weigh anchor. We sail fur t'coast a' Ursius..." _


	7. Chapter 6: Shadows

_"Ye be challenging me?" It was more of a statement than a question. The older male at Foxy's desk was a lynx, in his later years and grey in coat. He'd been among the crew long before Foxy's existance and was often teetering on the edge of loyalty and mutany with Leopold. The new captain had gotten many an eye and earfull of Layton when he was a mere kit and still, it seemed, he wasn't giving up on his ways yet. Foxy's paws were rested upon the desk, his cap tilted towards towards his snout. The red longcoat was draped lazily about his shoulders and tied with a brown leather clasp from his left shoulder to his right hip._

_"Please," came the other's growling reply, "Most of the crew challenges your athority and ability to captain this ship."_

_"And what be it that makes me unfit, mister Layton? Be is me age? Nay, can't be, can it? Ye was snobby towards me pap s'well, weren't ye? Can't be me skill, neither. Me can do three jobs all t'once n' better than the crew. What be the problem then, Layon? Ye wish a quarel wit me? Ye wishes tuh take me on?" Foxy had risen from his seat and was glaring deep into the lynx's bitter pools of orange. Layton's grey ears were flat against his head which was slowly shaking. "Nay? Well, that's what its lookin' like tuh me! Why 'tis it that e'ry capin' a' this ship be unfit to ye? Me father was unfit. Me's unfit. What be ye angle, kitten? Answer me!"_

_"No one in your family is fit for this ship, Foxy. You are all a group of soft bambies who'd help a homeless dog sooner than you'd rob him. You're no pirates!"_

_"Bein' a pirate, Layton, be more than jus' pillagin' n' killin' n' robbin' n' rapin'. Me father wasn't in dis fur no ill-will. Me father did this fur his family 'cause he ain't got no other choice. He ain't got no skills, no other roads. But one thin' 'bout me father that none can dispute was that Leopold Fox was a force to be reconed wit and I be his son! He tought me all he e'er knew n' wanted tuh know! He bestowed dis ship 'pon me, not you! I be as fit as any bein' to capin' her! Now, 'less ye really be lookin' for a quarell, ye get the five hells out'a me office!" The lynx swiftly turned tail and came upon the cabin doors. Before he left, though, Foxy stopped him. "n' Mister Layton," Layton turned slowly. "take one sniff in dis direction 'gain, n' I'll skin ye alive..." The door slammed gruffly and Foxy felt a wave of reliefe wash over his very soul. The kit could talk like a rabid hound, but wasn't sure his actions could deliver the same bite. Yes, Leopold had been Foxy's adiquite techer, but... Foxy had never actually used his skills... Sparing with his father was one thing. Leopold held back as to not hurt is kit, but Layton was a different beast. The lynx had been in his father's crew sinse he was a kitten, and even back then, Layton was an untrustowrthy thorn in their sides. He'd be a problem._

_From his cabin windows, the sea rolled sleepily in the twilight hours. Breakers were near to nonexistant and the sky had yet to fully brighten. This was one of the better views one saw aboard a ship, so far out at sea. There wasn't an object in sight; not a quarell to be antisipated, besides tensions with one's own crew. Foxy leasurly stared through the weathered glass, his fur puffed and scraggled and his eyes dark from exhaustion. He was already a wreck._

_"Captain!" barked a familiar voice from beyond his door._

_"Yes?" Foxy called back, simply turning his head partially to meet the sound._

_"Ship spotted just on the horizon. She's a small one. What should we do?" Foxy sighed. He hadn't done anything of use or note sinse taking command. He hadn't plundered nor murdered, nor even comitted petty theft. He needed something on his reputation, something small to begin with. Something that wouldn't get too much attention, yet was still note-worthy. He turned to the door, straitening his coat. When he opened it, a shepherd stood there, not much older than Foxy, only three years so._

_"Sink her."_

_"Captain? She's only a small merchant vessel."_

_"Aye, n' me says sink'er. Take 'ny servivors hostage fer ransome." The dog slowly shook his head and turned reluctantly to the crew._

_"Plow her over! She's to hit the ocean floor before noon!" He glanced back at Foxy. "I know what you're doing..."_

_"s'that so?"_

_"What Leopold did didn't make him memorable... It wasn't his haul, his body count... Remember that..." Foxy gave a rumbling snarl._

_"That'll do, Mister Shmitd... To ye station." Mike snorted, climbing up to the wheel and taking post. Foxy walked over to the rail, between two deck cannons. He counted... one... two... three... four... They erupted, each cannon just lightly rocking the ship with their force. "Little late," Foxy mumbled. He peered into the early dawn and watched as the other ship rolled heavily to the side. "But dead-on. Fire again!" one... two... three... They fired again, this time in three seconds as Foxy wished. They'd work on consistantly later. Again, the small merchant ship rolled over, but this time when she rolled back, she continued to slowly tip. She was already doomed. "Hold fire, mates! Take tuh station! Full sail o'er, let's get'er!" There was a conjoined agreement from the rest of the crew. Sweet honey to his ears._

* * *

A whispy abyss of darkness, eating him alive within its blue-silk ripples... He lashed at it's soft hold, but nothing could pull him from it's strange vice. His heart raced, his lungs screamed for what they couldn't have, what he couldn't reach. He could see nothing through the blurred haze. He tried to fight harder against it, but to no avail. He was sinking lower and lower and his chest burned like all the fires of the five hells. Shadows pulled at the corners of his crystal eyes, slowly eating them... taking him under to never return... a darkness that could not be escaped... Then... release... His head broke the surface of the water and he gasped greedily. The sounds around him were muffled, like there were cotton swabs in his ears, but he saw it all... He saw the fire burning the same as the rising day-break sun... The Moore Runner was up in smoke and inferno. She slowly began to dip below the glassy surface, moaning in her final moments. There was something in his ear, some loud mumble that he couldn't comprehend... It was become clearer. It came again... almost a word... almost... "Freddy!" The scream was sudden and made him wince. "Freddy! Come on cub, look at me! Wake up!" Freddy slowly turned his head to his right. Gerard was tiredly paddling next to him, shoving some object towards him, a barrel. Weakly, Freddy latched on, digging his claws into the worn wood. "That'a boy. Come on, keep your head up." Freddy rested his jaw against the think of the barrel, staring at his father with salt-stung eyes. Gerard looked equally battered, but was managing better off. Freddy wanted to say something, anything... but his voice was lost to the wind. He setteled for grasping Gerard's paw, the one which steered the barrel. He felt his father understood. "I'm alright, son. Just... Hang in there... Don't let go." He wanted to kick out and help his father with whatever task he was trying to accomplish, but he could hardly move... his body was almost numb.

"Gods..." Gerard's voice was almost lost among the groans from the vanishing Moore Runner. He stared before him in an almost muddled stupor. Freddy turned his head slowly to face that which was ahead of them. Promptly, his ears rotated back and eyes grew vast in perplexity. "It's her..." Gerard managed... Freddy desperatly wanted to asked what his father was enunciating about, but couldn't form a word. All he could do was sit and stare at the behemoth that lumbered passed them.


	8. Chapter 7: Iron Bars

The solid deck was a deep contrast to the void of ocean. Freddy fell upon it with a damp thump, but wanted, more than anything he'd ever desired, to stand, in spite if his now comfortable solid station. Foot fall scambled about him with harsh voices and some minor whimpers. There was one rather gruff rumble which stung the Grizzly's ears. "Grow up, you blasted bambie!" it yelled and a figure was tossed to the deck out of the corner of his eye. Some powerful grip took Freddy by his forearms and he was powerless to fight against it, but he was suddenly dropped again through the thunder of an unfamilar roar. It sounded savage, loud as a cannon. A shadow loomed over his frame, one hunched, but still powerful. It's uncannyness was stunning, however... The reason it was so strange was that it was... Gerard... The old Grizzly had, long ago, abandoned his strength and savagry with age. He wasn't a fighter by nature, anyway, but now... now he was something Freddy didn't recognize. The pirates tried to approach him again, but Gerard swiftly lashed out with ebony claws.

"Don't you DARE lay paw on him!"

"Easy now, Gramps. Wouldn't want your old bones dulling at the bottom of the ocean, now would we?" The shadows approached again and, as before, Gerard swated them away, hunching lower atop his near-unconcious son. "He's gonna be trouble then." They teetred a bit then stopped stiff. The deck had gone quiet, save for the mueling of other captaves which Freddy could veguely make out. Gerard's growling didn't halt, only growing deeper and blood-boiling still. It was something Freddy still hadn't gotten over.

"Back down, now lad... Be'fer me has'ta hurt'cha both..." A new voice had joined them. Freddy opened his eyes to find a pair of crimson paws near incehs from his muzzle. He slowly dragged his eyes up to the creature's topside features. He was mostly a dark red, but his stomach and uper muzzle were pinkish. He wore brown trousers, A dark red captain's coat with ilnumeral spangles and buckles, a holster on each hip, cradeling a flintlock pistol, and a matching hat. His opulent tail swished irritably from hip-to-hip. His amber eyes bore down on Gerard.

"Like the five hells I will..." Freddy couldn't keep his head up any longer. His chin dropped to the deck with a lesser thump, but that noise was easily forgotten to the bitter cry of a fresh pistol shot. He could feel the shadow slip out from atop him and the weight as a limp form slumped to the deck beside him. His heart sank, near blew up like a powder keg, and his claws twitched. The tips of his pads screamed for the strength to feel for his father... Feel his still working form... Feel his bristly chest yet moving with his breaths. His paw simply twitched towards the form, brushing a stick of fur. Then again, this time meeting hard rib. There was breathing and that was somewhat soothing, but where had Gerard been shot? Where was the blood? None was seeping from him towards the younger, so it was on the other side. "Get that'n upright!" Freddy was forced up and pulled to look up by the scruff atop his head. His met muzzle-to-muzzle with the same young pirate, also captain, of the ship which he'd been taken aboard. His grin was sickening and spotted with golden bits. "Welcome aboard, Laddie, Le Pirata Cala! Me ship! Now, Laddie, if ye be wantin' some care fer ye matey, thar, ye best be doin' s'me says ye be doing, lest ye both end up full'a lead. Savy?"

Freddy was too weak to respond past a snort. "What kinda' response be that, mate? Has ye water in ye ears?"

"No, but I think it might be in his lungs, Captain." The Grizzly didn't care who was speaking. He didn't care about much anything at the moment. He was tired. He was in pain. He wanted out and his relesae was the soft state of unconciosness just beyond a thin threashold. "Look at him, Foxy. Does that look like the proud Ursian's you know? The boy's sick with something nasty. Maybe Doc. Levi needs a call."

"What d'me tells ye, Mike?"

"Judging by the rest of the haul," the voice continued, "He's probably the most valuable you've brought in and you'll let him die of something simple?"

"Mr. Shmitd! Me won't be questioned by ye likes no more!"

"But must you make a bad desicion as well? Foxy, your father'd do it." The captain mumbled in defeat.

"Fine'n. Call Doc. Levi. Tell'm t'check the brig fer two strickin' Ursians. Treat'm both." There was only shadows upon the corners of his eyes and soon nothing but mumbles to his ears.

* * *

A cool wash of liquid, sweetly unsalty as Freddy's wanted for quite some time, woke him from his blissful rest which had saved him some grief. Freddy's sense of touch came first. It felt along a rugged floor, wood in most spots but slightly covered in obviosu reed. Then his ears came to. He heard murmers and some soft mumbles as well as scuffling before himself rather close. Heavy breathing was also another burn at his head. Then, finally, there came his sight. He found before him a strange bird, one he'd never seen the likes of, but he hadn't seen much of many types of people. The creature was shrouded in a white robe and was coiling up some rubber tube. Freddy's earlier attempts to speak had rendered him worhtless, but his cracks at it then brough life back to it. It seemed as though a heavy bolt had been lifted from him. "What... is that for...?"

"Mmm-m-m... You're awake. This-This is tubing. I needed it to get the salt water out-out of your lungs. You-you had much, boy. You're very strong-strong to have servived it. Your friend is-is fine as well. He's just as-as resiliant. The ball missed-missed anything vital. Hw shall recover soon. Who is he to you, cub? You look-look muc alike. Family?"

"Yes," Freddy struggled, "He's my... father... Where... where is he?"

"In the cell-cell next to yours. To the right." Freddy had regained enough of his strength to turn his head and found Gerard lain out on beside him through a wall of iron bars. His breathing was labored, but existant, which was enough to quell the younger grizzly's frailness. "You have-have gotten yourself in-into a real prediciment, Ursian. Foxy's bent-bent on things that'll ruin-ruin us all."

Freddy wasn't listening anymore. What the bird had to say peaked no interest of his. Freddy scraped along his stomach until he could press his muzzle to the bars of his cell. "Dad...?" his voice was stronger now, but yet still frail. Gerard's head rolled slightly, but his ears rotated to meet Freddy's voice. "Are you alright?" The older grizzly breathed out.

"Yes... In spite of the pain... Are you...?"

The younger forced a smile. "Yeah..." Freddy's cell door slammed shut and a heavy foot-fall drifted into nothingness. Freddy pressed his muzzle through the bars and sniffed at the other's shoulder. "I'll figure something out..."

"No... Freddy, the worst thing you can do right now is struggle... You'll killl yourself... There are more men aboard this ship than on the island of Solace... Just... please, just wait. Maybe we can work something out with the captain..."

"Are you kidding me? They sunk The Moore Runner. They killed most of the crew. They killed Oslow! What makes you think we can reason with these... butchers?"

"Frederick, no man is without reason or desire. There will be something he wants and we can make a deal. For now, just wait... please... For once, Freddy, do as I say." Freddy pulled his muzzle from the bars and bared his fangs at the older grizzly. He'd have said something, but, he couldn't... Gerard was in no shape to argue and Freddy knew he'd try. For now, he'd do as he was told: wait.

* * *

_"What'll you do with the lessers?" Mike leaned back against the wall, arms crossed and mind buzzing with disapproving messages. Leopold would have ripped Foxy from his hide had he any clue to his son's deliberate cruelty. _

_"They all be worth somethin' t'slave labor." _

_"Really? Foxy, this isn't what your father wanted!" Foxy stepped around his desk and stood looming inches taller than the shepherd. _

_"Me pays n'mind t'what me father wanted! Me does what me wants t'do! Me'll make a name fer meself, greater than me father." _

_"And what OF your father?" _

_"Let'm gripe if'n he wants. Can't do nothin t'me now." _

_"Foxy-" _

_"Are ye finished, Mister Shmitd? If'n not, then thar be 'nother free cell jus' waitn' fer ye!" Mike's ears went flat. He pushed off the wall and slid from the cabin, leaving Foxy to whatever destruction he wished upon himself. _


	9. Chapter 8: About to Make History

Days upon days could have drifted into one another like smeared paint and yet, none could have noticed. The nights were the days and vice versa. Freddy couldn't distinguish much longer after the fifth, though he tried with all his being would allow... Not that it mattered. No one else seemed to care. Freddy did, however. He wasn't entirely sure why, but deep in his stomach, the though of losing track ate away at him like acid. He'd lost track. It was the worst it could have been. Gerard had since recovered, the musket ball now removed from his shoulder and wound stitched. He'd been up and eating on his own as well. Freddy's recovery was slower, but when his full possible strength was at peak, he knew he'd be ready. For what, he was still working out. The cell doors were seldom opened. When they were, it wasn't but some select cells every week. Freddy's had been opened once and was met with fighting, so they didn't open it again for two weeks. That time, Freddy was taken above deck and lined up with some other few. What transpired then was still etched deep into his lobe.

* * *

_Faces were as expected: afraid and uncertain. The mix in which he'd been mingled was of mostly weaker beings, void of strength or use. There were selections like Freddy who'd been surviving rather well and could live much longer, given the current treatment of the prisoners was consistent in the future. Three burly crew members held muskets tight in their paws and one walked along the line with a simple pistol. She was new to Freddy's eyes. Judging by the expressions of others, she wasn't to them. She was a white-furred canine with a long, luxurious tail and attractive figure, but her muzzle was riddled with horrific scars as well as her exposed arms. Her fur could not grow around the markings and it left her mangled in appearance. She wore a simple white half-shirt and black trousers. She continued her walk about, up and down the line then back again as before, repeated the process. Then, she stopped in front of one, a thinning feline male with dead eyes. She tilted her head left, then right, then left again, before standing, aiming down her sight, and firing point blank. The feline slumped dead within his own shards of brain. The fox walked up and down again. This time, she stopped at a rather healthy looking Crow. His feathers were oily, but his strength seemed constant. Freddy recognized him from the Moore Runner. Despite his obvious health, however, the vixen aimed an fired. The crow lay dead in seconds._

_This trend was repeated for quite some time, leaving six others dead, some healthy looking, others not so much. Finally, she waved her paw and the rest were taken back below deck._

* * *

Freddy knew he'd be taken out again. He'd seen many go in and out and always come back multiple times. Gerard had come back twice. They'd take him out again, but when they did, he needed a plan, else he'd just walk a dead man. From his cell, Freddy could make out some nets, hanging from the low ceilings. They had kegs of something. Freddy hoped it was powder, though rum was still flammable. Every crew member carried a pistol on their hip and a musket on their back. He needed one. He could get one with the right slip of the paw. He'd need a distraction, however, then something to do once he was out. Where would he go? Freddy looked beside him and saw his father fast asleep on some hay he'd piled up. Would he take Gerard? He shook his head. 'No. I'm not leaving the ship. There's nowhere to go. I'll think of a plan.' The younger grizzly had observed most of the crew and found the majority to be of the thinner likes. He was much stronger than them. He could over power many. His dark fur could also give him an advantage at night. Then, there was the situation with the captain. That fox had to have some skill if he held such a rank among some who seemed stronger and others with scars to prove them battle worthy. He had to be something special. Judging by his thin frame and light paws, he could be a good swordsman, but the creature carried pistols. A sharpshooter maybe, but what could they do at suffocating close range?

* * *

_The nightshade darkness was mellow cast aside by yellow lamps and flickering flames. Her fur shown dimly in such lighting, but her scars shined like new blood. Foxy had never been fazed by her scars, nor her, in spite of her skill. She was younger than him, smaller slightly, as well. Not to mention kin. "What're the numbers?" he asked. She scratched her breast. _

_"Thinner by much, cap'in. We're down twelve. Th'rest seem well 'nuff. The old'un be fine, s'well. All'm gonna survive, s'far s'we can tell." The red male twisted a rum-bottle in his paw, staring out his window, or rather at the reflection of himself upon it. Why didn't he like what he saw any better than before? He'd done memorable things... things that could be told as story, yet he still felt a shadow loomed over him... It's size was unimaginable. Why...? Could it just be a goal he would never reach? "What be on ye mind, brother?" Her voice had gone to a soft lull which it only would around him. _

_"Nothin', lass... Keep'n eye on them. Crew s'well. 'specially Layton. That'n 'll be trouble or me be a Bambi." _

_"Papa n'er had no trouble out'a him..." _

_"That's 'cause Layton knew his place with father... Though he hated t'keep it. Do s'I say, fer now, lass. I know me feelins and me feelins be sick 'round that cat." The white vixen nodded, turning tail to her brother. _

_"If'n that be ye command, Cap'n." _

_"Vaha..." _

_"Yessir, Cap'n?" _

_"Dun be callin' me that, lass. No command'n position be above kin." _

_"Yessir," She smiles sly. "Cap'n." Foxy smacked his desk, turning his seat full about to bark at the vixen. _

_"What'n me tells ye!?" he laughs. His sister is out the door long before he can reach the peek of scold. Once she is, he falls back into a sit. His paws ran down his muzzle and he sighed. A map had been lain out on his desk to be glanced over and it has been.. many times. He'd marked places along their voyage and none really struck out. Then, he glances over a previously marked area. It's near one of the Ursian island bays, long from the actual island, but still moderately protected. One of the shoals has a coral reef that cannot be tread by larger ships... It's never been attempted anyway. From there, any single ship could fire at Ursian navel hulls at will. The other sides were protected by island. The thin line which lead in made room for only one ship at a time. Why he'd marked it off before was because of the reef, but now... Now he felt a string tug at his heart... This could be it. If he could get the La Pirata Cala into that shoal, he could encamp and destroy a fleet. This WAS it. This was his call to fame. This what what his father and the entire world would remember him for. "Mr. Shmitd!" The door burst open within moments. _

_"Yes, Captain?" _

_"Make sail for the Fairland Islands. When we be in range'f Zeepin, call stop'n wait." Mike's brow rose. _

_"What are you thinking, Foxy?" _

_"Me thinkin' that we be about t'make history." _


	10. Chapter 9: Devil

_AN~ Sorry for the long wait. I had some serious story conflicts that I had to work out in my head. _

* * *

The night was still... Disturbingly so... It matched a level of unnerving which some could say was almost spiritually haunting. For him, however... it was... Beautiful. It was fear. Fear was beautiful. The waves were scared to roll and the creatures of the world were too stunned by the intrusion of the unknown that they sealed their cries. Fear was power. Fear was influence. Fear was control. To try and control without some fear of consequence was to simply preach to a room of rowdy, undisciplined cubs. It didn't work.

His Ursian Man-o-War, granted by command to him of the Ursian Navel council, had been deemed 'The Lucid Dreamer.' She was a finely -built vessel, one worthy of no navy save for that of Ursius, the most powerful of all forces in the world. He thought so. They'd won every war which had torn the world apart to current. "Admiral Duivel." The voice was meek, nearly a whisper and laced with the sweet aroma of fear, that which he relished with a deep passion. The pitiless black of his irises turned ever slowly from the stern window and glazed the appearance of the creature at his cabin door. It was a chocolate brown finnic with a curled mop of shag about his skull. His ears were rather large, good for those of a look-out and a trust-able crew member. He was dressed in the lavish Ursian Naval uniform, thought not a Ursian himself. Nevertheless, he had long proven himself a reliable ally among them all. The Admiral especially.

"Yes, Mister Fitzgerald?" The Fennic became a slight tinge braver and stepped fully into the center of the cabin, back strait and respectful. The stance came naturally around any high-ranking officer... Any officer save for Admiral Duivel. The Ursian was of a stranger... intimidating sort. It was not his Ursian Naval blue long-coat, spangled in golden accents and medals that shimmered like the stars of his flag. It was not the glorious Man-a-War he commanded, the pride of the Ursian fleet with enough guns to destroy the Island of Lenaus. It was just... him... His irises were deeper than the Marshaw abyss, black and light-less to accompany such, almost to where one could not see the white. His claws gleamed ebony, curved like scythes and sharp like steel blades... And his fur was a deep, partially pearlescent, yellow, gold in appearance. The Fennic could name no other like Admiral Duivel. He was unique, to say the least.

"We've received our orders from Ursius," came Mister Fitzgerald. The Ursian before him clasped his massive paws behind his back and teetered on the heels of his uniform boots.

"And?"

"And the Council has denied your request. They sent with their courier a written message from the chairman himself." The Fennic handed an overly-folded sheet to his superior who took it with an irritable snatch and a seething growl.

"_We cannot allow such free range on your part. We have trusted you with many liberties, but this is where a line must be drawn for the sake of our country. _By the Gods... What does that old haggard know about the welfare of Ursius? She's powerful in a time of lawful war, but what will she do against an enemy which follows no laws? These bastards aren't going to keep to treaties and parliament! Does he honestly think them capable of reason?"

"Perhaps. You know he has that young adviser at his right often. He's a naive cub, but has quite an influence over the choices of the chairman. He thinks highly of him simply because he thinks that this age is a time of reform. You know how it is, do you not, Admiral? Reform is a result of the ideals of the younger generation."

"But to leave the issue of reform and influence of decision to a cub? I don't like how close they are becoming, either. He might very well go against tradition and elect that little brat to be his successor once he's retired."

"He can do that?"

"He's the chairman of our military forces. He has complete control over such things unless King Gallagher, in his mighty self, steps in, which he won't. Bentley has had Gallagher in his pocket for fifteen years. The bloke is practically untouchable." Admiral Duivel marched to his window once more, paws clenched tightly together and claws jabbing into the padded palms. "That's why the King is blind... He doesn't see why I need to do this!" One paw released the other and slammed in a fist into the wooden wall, just shy of the window's edge. The wood slightly splintered under the force... The grizzly just left his paw resting in the dent he made. "We'll show them..." He let loose a deep breath. "Set a course for Zeeptin. We'll regroup with the rest of our fleet."

"Admiral... The council-"

"Do it, Fitzgerald!" The Fennic jumped and quickly turned to the door, exiting without much more of an argument. Admiral Duivel, however, simply stared back into the eyes of his reflection.

* * *

It'd taken days... So much labor and aching paws but he'd just about done it... He could have easily been done long before current, but to do so then would have meant trouble. Freddy needed the perfect moment. After some time of watching the crew, Freddy deducted that around midnight, every night, the watch switched. For a breif moment, the hold was empty. It was then that he could take his chance, leave his cell, and figure out the rest of his plan. Granted, not having a full plan did hinder his chances for success... and life, but any risk, so long as he, in the least, tried, was worth it. He thought so, anyway.

The time was slowly approaching and Freddy glanced to his right. Gerard was fast asleep, curled on his mound of straw. His breathing was light and calming, something Freddy found as a small aid for his own nights. The sound of life somewhere near always helped him sleep. He then glanced around the rest of the hold. There were so many empty cells... citizens he'd talked to only weeks before... now gone... cast into the ocean by the butchers who slaughtered them and many prior. Freddy wished he could get some small revenge, but escape came first, rescue second, revenge only if he had the chance. These pirates would pay, though, weather it be by Freddy's paw or the Gods'. They'd do best to pray is was Freddy's. The Gods' were much less forgiving. "Shift!" The bellowing call picked at Freddy's ears and they perked upright to listen. He followed the sounds of each crew member and watched and counted the bodies by the stairway lantern. _1.. 2...3...4...5...6...7...8. _Eight watchmen. This was it. The grizzly dug his claw under the lock and, with one swift, powerful jerk, the mechanism became detached and the tumbler swung open. He didn't stop to revel over the small victory. He quickly scurried out and shut the door back, piling some straw by the foot of it to keep it closed. Then, he ducked between cells and cargo crates, moving into the shadows where he was almost certain he was invisible. Then came the next wave of watchmen, eyes fresh and bodies rested. He needn't attract their attention. A quarrel with them, especially in his weaker state, would NOT end well.

Freddy counted again. _1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8 _There were the eight replacements. Freddy moved slowly, crouched close to the floor, ears back and nose helping him around objects more than his eyes could in such darkness. He smelled gun powder and a deep hickory. The crate before him was such. He slunk behind it and tried to make out figures in the darkness. There were three pirates between him and the stairs. There was plenty of darkness. he could make it to the next deck, at least. Freddy scuttled around the three and to the stairs. There was light on the stairs... Lantern light. He could be seen by it from across the deck. He needn't draw that kind of attention... but there was no other way. He had to rush it. Watching the crew, Freddy waited, counting seconds... steps... His heart beats... They went by like hours... Then there was an opportunity... The two closest to him were occupied with a crying prisoner. He needed to go now. Freddy quickly shuffled up the steps and around a shelf of cargo. He stopped to catch his breath... '_Okay,_' he thought. '_That's one deck. This is a Man-o-War. An Ursian style Man-o-War. She has two more decks after this one. Both cannon decks much like this one. The stairs are on opposing walls from each other case, so I can just swing around to head up the next flight... I still have to be careful._'

Freddy peeked around the shelf and found nothing save for an unmanned cannon, thus he shimmied along the shelf and came up to the next flight of stairs. He was quick to ascend then stop once more. '_Oh no..._' This floor was purely a cannon deck. There was little else there besides some small cots, unfortunately occupied, and some nets of cannonballs. These nets were hung, however, to ensure that nothing and no one was damaged by them in case of rough seas. There was near to nothing for him to hide behind... And a pirate at the stairs... Not just any pirate, either... It was the shepherd... The First mate, from what Freddy could gather. He wasn't just that, though... Freddy knew him; had for a long time... The history wasn't pretty. '_Damn you, Michael..._' Freddy moaned inside his head. This was impossible... What in the five hells was he suppose to do now? Freddy crouched low in a shadow and thought, racked his brain breathlessly for an idea. He did so in such violence that his head even began to ache. He was stressed... Not a good thinker under stress... He clenched his eyes shut, holding in a growl through clenched fangs.

"If I didn't owe you, I'd shoot you..." The low rumble was deep and cold, nearly as cold as the metal barrel pressed to the back of Freddy's neck. "If you're good, I'll escort you back to your cell and Captain Foxy doesn't have to know..." Freddy's crystal eyes bore through the darkness, turning to glare at the dog.

"You know that old bet is worth more than a trip back to my cell... Of course... What's a pirate to honor an honest bet?" Mike scoffed.

"Bets will be honored, promises, unless to the Captain? Not so much. We like our gambling, our betting. We hate to lose a bet, but it's in the better interests of the crew if their honored. How much do you think yours is worth?"

"A certain pirate looking the other way..."

"I can't do that. It's mutiny. I am at good terms with the Captain, but he will not hesitate the shoot me if such conduct is discovered." Freddy dug his claws into the deck.

"Who's to say he'll know? I only want to leave with my father and to do that I need to find a way off this ship. If I get caught, you were taking a break to relieve yourself. No one besides us is here to say otherwise, right?" The pistol remained on him, but now against his forehead.

"You have another gun-deck to climb. Then topside. You won't survive and if you do, the Captain will find suitable punishment for an escapee. You are not a prisoner of war, Frederick. To Foxy, you're livestock... You're product to be exploited and sold. He's not like his father. He'll kill every chance he gets and he'll take anything he can get his paws on. He wants to earn a reputation and is going down the path for the worst kind. I'd be doing you a cruelty if I let you passed me. Take my advice," He pulled back the hammer. "Come back to your cell." Freddy's muzzle was stern.

"Mike, you owe me more than a bet. You owe me years of pain. You owe my mother an apology, something that cannot be given now, seeing as she's gone-"

"Gaia's gone...? How long?"

"Two months and here I am, her grieving son, with her more than so Husband, in the custody of pirates... How much worse do you think it can get? You owe me more... You owe my mother... You owe my father... Look. The other. Way." The gun didn't falter. It remained steadfast to the grizzly's temple. Mike's eyes were much the same, dark brown almost black against the darkness had it not been for the small sliver of candle light. His muzzle was in a veil of darkness...

"You have thirty seconds." Freddy didn't waste any time. He scurried up the stairs and into another bundle of shadow, unseen by any besides the shepherd on the lower deck. Mike felt two different concoctions in his gut; two chemicals which, alone, couldn't do much damage, but together were a lethal poison. As for Freddy, he was already peeking onto the top-deck, seeing no one save for the helmsman who was ever focused on the ocean before him. The grizzly looked up. Past the sails he could make out a feint movement, some outline of the look-out. He wasn't keen on the deck, at the moment. Freddy moved cautiously, getting into the deck and watching the two figures by darting his eyes from the helm to the nest. Helm... nest... helm...nest...

Then white. A flash of white and Freddy found himself sprawled onto the top-deck, a seething ache shooting through his right side. The Helmsman jumped from where Freddy could see him and he was quick to scream into the night, so loud that the Grizzly's ears rang with it's echo. "Escapee!"

"Hush ya yap, Bloke. Dun need ta' wake up th'whole damn crew! This is handled." Freddy glanced back and found a certain female figure looming over him. He attempted to stand, moving quickly, but not quick enough. The vixen swept her paw under his own and he was on his stomach again. "Stop now, lad. Ye's gone hurt ye'self. Ye dun need more pain th'n what ol' Vaha gone do t'ya. Me's hopin' t'have s'much fun wit-"

"No, ye's not gone do nothin' t'him." The second voice sent chills down Freddy's spine like cold steel. He knew who it was... but such a gentle murmur was nothing short of shocking, coming from that which it was. "Take'im t'me quarters. I'll deal wit'the likes'a him." The Vixen gave a disappointed grumble.

"Fine'n." Then... Black...


	11. Chapter 10: The Deal

Looking up at the crimson creature made his stomach well with bile; acidic bile. The fox had been pacing his floor for the better portion of an hour, mumbling along many possible tortures which he could inflict upon the grizzly, who was forced on his knees with his paws shackled before his stomach. There wasn't a feeling more sickening than helplessnes. Freddy wanted to gag. The captain continued to pace. It was an agonizingly slow circle. He stepped once every three seconds, clawing at his right leg, then turned about after reaching the end of the room to walk in the other direction. His tail flick side to side with every step. "Hrmm..." he finally said, stopping in the middle of the room before his captive. "E'ry time me thinks'a somethin' good, me done realizes that th'nitial result'll bore me half t'death..." Freddy simply stared back at him, locking his azure eyes with that of the Captain's amber. The Fox didn't look away. He stood his ground and seemed to be waiting for Freddy to move first. He didn't. He wouldn't. When Foxy realized this, he continued to talk in his butchered language, but did not back down. He'd be damned if he gave in to such a thing.

"I's not gonna kill yuh. Ye be t'useful. Ye be'a value... But that done mean I can't hurt ye... I can't make ye bleed like slaughter... Still... There be no fun'n all that... Me wants something new... a show... Ye looks'a the sophisticated likes, aye? Ye a rich cub? Ye knows what I mean. Af't so long, none much entertains ye so ye goes lookin' fer somethin' new. Ain't that much like yur type, lad?"

Freddy snarled his reply, baring his pearl fangs. "Don't act like you know me." Foxy's response seemed to convey humor. He scoffed, stuffing his paws into his coat pockets and turning towards the window of his cabin.

"Ye thinks ye's different? Ye thinks ye ain't none like th'rest 'a yur snobby, rich empire back'n Ursius? I met many a creature from thar, lad. They be all th'same... They has all th'power in the world wit thar mighty fleet and thar mighty soldiers. They feel un-touchable... Like'n invinsible beast... Lemme tell ye somethin', lad: e'ry monster has its weakness... E'ry empire has it's downfall... Someday... Ursius will be nothin' but a smolderin' husk in the line'a history... It'll be nothin'... And I be laughin' from me cell in the five hells when it does."

Freddy's claws tightened around the chain of the shackles, stressing the tempered iron. He gingerly got onto one paw, his right, then the other, looming tall over the captain, almost a foot so. Foxy continued to talk. "E'ry empire'll fall... E'n th'great ones... Sometime's ye has t'wonder what went wrong..." Freddy took a step, soft on the rug. Foxy didn't turn around. He took another. Still nothing. Then another. He was suffocatingly close now. So... close... In an instant, he slung the chan about Foxy's neck and yanked it tight, the back of the pirate's head against Freddy's chest. Strangely enough, he laughed. "Oh, ye's a smart'un," he mused. "Me likes ye. Ha! Well, what're ye gone do now, fuzzy?"

"I want-" He looked to Foxy's hip... On each there was a pistol. "Put the pistols on the floor."

"Eh?"

"Take the pistols off and put them on the floor. Now!" The fox grabbed the but of one of the guns. Freddy tightened his hold, slightly choking the other. Foxy removed it from the holster and dropped in on the rug. He did the same with the other. "Now, kick them away." Foxy obeyed. One ended up by the door, the other by the red couch to the left of the desk. "Good boy. Now we can talk. You have the keys to these cuffs?" He nodded. "Unlock them. Try anything and I'll snap that scrawny windpipe." A single red paw reached into the overcoat, making Freddy tense and tighten his hold once more. The paw moved slow, finally fiddling out a ring of silver and iron keys. One was of a decorative brass and smelted in a rather opulent fashion. Foxy ignored it, however, and flicked out a simple iron key. With some difficulty, he managed to reach around behind his own head and put the key into the proper hole on Freddy's right wrist. The key was twisted agonizingly slow, clicking many times over before it finally popped. Foxy removed the key and switched it to his other hand, reaching around and slowly plugging it into the other hole. He turned and turned slowly, dragging out into a perioid of, what should have seconds, minutes. Then, before reaching the final click, he paused. He glanced back at Freddy who kept a stern expression. He didn't like the look in that Fox's eyes. He knew what he was thinking... and waited...

Foxy flicked the key and it turned that final crank and even before the shackles made it to the floor, he lunged across the room, Freddy to the other side, both snatching up one of the discareded pistols. They stared one another down, one glaring deep into the other's eyes. One crystal pair burned deeper than the fires of the five hells. The other of amber had the gal to look amused. '_He doesn't think I'll pull the trigger..._' Freddy concluded, gripping to the butt of the flintlock even tighter. "Put it down, lad. Ye'll jus' cause trouble."

Freddy snarled. "You first."

"Thar be also fool'n that numb head'a yurs. What'cha think ye's gone do if'n ye shoots me? Waltz out'a here like ye's th'king 'a e'rythin'? Ye won't get two feet out'a this door... That's... if ye can survive me..."

"You aren't as mighty as you think, Pirate... If you were, you'd have shot me by now."

Foxy laughed, taking a step. "And what'a ye? Ye hasn't taken' a go't me yet, has ye? Still holdin' that trigger like'a cub, graspin' the hem'a his mum's dress. Hidin' like a scared child behind that feirce Ursian snarl. Ye's not gone do nothin'." He took another step, and another... Freddy kept the pistol aimed at the other, grip getting tighter and tighter, but never once did that trigger move. Soon enough, Foxy was practically breathing down his neck. Their noses were only an inch apart. "Funny thin' is, neither'll I... Cause these here pistols..." The pressed the barrel under Freddy's chin. "They aren't e'n loaded." The pulled the trigger and the gun merely clicked unsatasfactory. Freddy's eyes went wide and he did the same, pulling the trigger just to find that the gun didn't fire. It only gave an empty click. Foxy was besides himself in mirth, laughing in a bellowing howl. Freddy was quite the opposite. He clenched the gun, claws curling around it in rage.

"Why in the five hells would you cary useless guns?!" He roared, tossing the pistol aside. Foxy shrugged.

"Jus' decoration. Thar me father's." He tossed the pistol aside aswell, but was swift to reach into his coat. Before he could react, Freddy had a sharp tip of steel pressed against his stomach. "This knife works jus' fine, though. Why done ye sit, aye?" Foxy pressed forward and Freddy slowly backed against the couch, snarl growing deeper as he sat down. Foxy stood over him, dagger now at the grizzly's throat. They sat there, staring for the longest time... Then... Foxy laughed once more. "Well, lad, lemme tell ye; I asked fer'a show and ye delivered! Ha!" The dagger was beginning to press into Freddy's fur. "Me blood was rushin' like'a flood! Y'know? Me likes ye. Me likes y'lots... Hmmm..." He looked up, comically mirroring an expression of thought. Freddy didn't like it. He glared up at him and snorted hard into Foxy's hand. "Me has'a good idea, now... Tell ye what, Fuzzy. Ol' Cap'n Foxy'll make a deal wit'cha. Mind hearin' it?"

"Don't think I'm in a position to argue."

"Aye. Thar ye goes. Gettin' smart again. Ye needs t'keep thinkin' like that. That'll keep ye'live. Now, me deal be this: I'll let all the prisoners down'n that hold go. Stop at the Sharrow port somewheres before Zeeptin 'n I'll let'm all go, includin' ye papa, if Ye agrees t'stay wit' me and be'a part'a me crew." Freddy jerked forward, beginning to protest, but stopped. He needed to think logically. He needed to consider everything... Gerard was an older creature... Also hurt and dealing with the pain of a bullet wound which, though mostly healed, still stung, and the pain of loss which would take some years to get over. He needed off of the ship as soon as possible. Then... He remembered what Mike had said... All the prisoners were cattle. Foxy didn't care what happened to him... Foxy wanted to sell them through some ring of slavery. None of the surviving few should ever have to endure such treatment. They were innocent people... For the first time in all his stay aboard this pirate ship... Freddy's mind went to his mother. She was a sweet thing. She loved most living things, save for insects who killed her flowers. She hated to see anything suffer and, most often, thought of others in spite of her own emotions. The woman was practically a sait. Freddy himself never understood it, but saw how loved his mother was because of it... He needed to be more like her... Like his father said...

"Alright..."

"Aye? Nothin' t'say but alright? Ye 'grees s'easily?"

"Yes... If you let my father and everyone else go. I'll join you... For as long as you need me... For as long as I survive. My father is all I have left and I would be nothing if I let anymore happen to him. He's gone through enough, just like the other prisoners aboard this ship. Will you honor this?" Foxy's eyes were distant, his smile gone and simply a blank expression. It was as if he were daydreaming... In a haze. "Captain?" He shook his head, eyes re-focusing.

"Aye, lad. Our agreement'll be honored in highest. They'll all go free. Ye'll stay here and work for me." He stuck out a paw, the one not holding the dagger. Freddy took it, feeling acid rise in his throat to its touch. "Forgive me caution, though, lad. Ye'll have t'go back t'ye cell for the trip t'Sharrow."

"Can I, at least, get to see my father off?"

"Aye, but thar'll be many eyes on ye..."

"That's fine... So long as I can talk to him before he leaves... There's a lot I need to say and I know he won't listen if I try to tell him now. He can be so stub-" His muzzle wen't blank. "Just... Let's get it over with."

* * *

_AN~ Lemme tell you a little something here: This is the scene that I have been waiting to do ever since I started this fan fiction. It's just so pivitol and funny! I know it's not all that long, but from here on out, this story is on full sail! The main problem was me trying to get from A to C and not having a B as a bridge to help me get there. I knew where I wanted to end up but didn't know the right path. Anyway, I hope you are all enjoying this very much and I do leave you with one little caution: PLEASE do not put spoilers in the reviews. Some people, me included, like to look at the reviews before reading a story to see how it is. It sucks to find the entire story summerized in the reviews and then have no fun while reading the story. Thanks for reading, though, and I hope you'll stay for the journy! _


	12. Chapter 11: Love is Eternal

_Love... Is a complicated thing... at times, it is strong. So strong that it pushed people to do things they wouldn't ordanarally do without it. Somethings it's so weak that one cannot even feel that it's there... But it is... Love never leaves... Friends and family may come to pass, in death or in distance, but one's love for them will never fade..._

* * *

The sight of Sharrow brought an overwash of warmth through him and to be on deck to see it expanded such feelings... But they were not alone... Another wave crippled him, drowned him in its ebony black... It was dread. Dread snapped his his heart and bound his soul to chains for he was to be away from it all for a long... long time... Away from the world he'd known from birth. He was a pirate now...

The Prisoners were brought up, one by one. They each had upon their muzzles looks of terror, prossibly thinking that another round of exicutions was at paw. It was refreshing for Freddy to know that such wasn't the case. Foxy emerged from his cabin, coat, and all which was attached, in prim order. His paws were behind his back. He slowly aproached the line of prisoners, walking up and down it in the same, slow pase he seemed to enjoy. "Madams n' Gents," he began, head held to the clouds in some sort of pride, something Freddy wished he didn't have. "It be ye lucky day. Aft' some... 'Negotiation' wit' one'a ye fellow captives, me's desided to let ye all go." They all held their breath, as though not sure that what they were hearing was true. They had every right to feel that way. Most shouldn't have believed it. Such cautions saved many feelings... and lives. "Mister Fazbear," Foxy called, extending his paw to Freddy who was sat upon a barrel about the main mast. As he walked to meet his new supirior, he scanned the line, looking for the muzzle of his father... He found it someways about the middle, glaring with wide, silver eyes. There was no surprise there... Only disaproval... It made Freddy's insides burn.

"This'ere fine gent has agreed t'stay behind in exchange fer yer freedom!" Gerard's ears slowly rolled back against his head, eyes far wider than before.

"No!" He barked, jolting upright, though held back by a crew member who almost seemed to be having trouble with him. "Frederick, what in the five hells are you doing?" Azure iris met silver and the younger of the two slowly stood strait. He took a deep breath.

"What I need to."

"Why do you NEED to do this?"

"I just do. Don't fight it. Please..."

"Yer cubs right, lad. Better t'jus' let it happen. Should b'proud'a him, e'en. He be doin' somethin' worth while. Gone be part'a history. B'sides, 'tis all done. If'n yuh dun' go, th'cub kicks th'bucket."

"What? What kind of choice is this?"

"You'd have to choose between being stubborn and my life?" Freddy's eyes burned like crystal flames, borning into Gerard's with such a fury that the older grizzly's heart about went up in an inferno of hatred and hellfire. He never wanted such a look to stain his son's expression. Neither did Gaia. '_He doesn't understand..._' Gerard swallowed inside.

"Frederick, no... You're all I have left..."

"I won't be dead... Just really far away. Would you rather it that and you free or me dead and you a slave? I'm not arguing with you anymore. You're getting off this ship." in spite of this better judgement, Freddy turned back and reteated to the captain's cabin, where Foxy had told him to go after he was finished talking with his father... After Freddy had said wanted he needed, though he hadn't. There were so many words he'd hoped to say... one of them being a Good-bye.

* * *

_Love survives hatred. It surpasses it, even. There are no heated words, nor bloodied brawls, nor savage wars that could ever erase it._

* * *

Gerard's heart sank with each step he took towards the dock of Sharrow. His paws were free, but there was never a time where he felt more trapped. Not even two months ago was he forced to say good-bye to his wife and the mother of his cub. Now, he was forced to part with his son... without a good-bye. Inside, Gerard was screaming in frustrarion, gnarring at his child's quick assumptions and stubborn nature. Gods, how had he and Gaia created such an orney cub? What had they done wrong? Why couldn't the Gods spare her long enough to save that cub's soul?

* * *

_Love survives misunderstanding. Mistakes can be in words and there are none to be said that can cause love to fade. _

_Love is Eternal..._

* * *

Freddy slammed his fist into the side was of the cabin, denting the wood and causing Foxy to turn from his desk and stare with a raised brow. "Damage n'thin' and ye'll be flogged, cub. Watch't." The grizzly was choice oblivious of the captain's words and hit the wall again. "Cub!"

He swung around and loomed over Foxy, paws clenched and claws digging into their pads. "I will work for you, but I will not stand being talked down to as though I'm a child."

"Ye'll stand bein' talked to howe'er I dane't talk t'ye." Freddy's eyes might have burned, but Foxy's burned hotter. "Put'cha hissy fits aside n' stand down, cub... Tonight, ye has some punishment awaitin' ye. Once fer disrespect," a devious grin streatched across his muzzle. "N' once fer escapin' yuh cell." Freddy's temper flared.

"But I-"

"Ye escaped yuh cell. Takin' me deal done excuse ye from th'punishment towards that action." The Grizzly's fists tightened and Foxy could see it clearly. "Are ye gone dig ye hold deeper, lad?" He cautioned. "Come wit me onto th'deck, cub." With a wriggle of one paw-pad, Foxy swayed out the door, long coat moving with his long strides. They emerged onto the deck of the ship, Aparently named 'La Pirata Cala', and met most of the crew working in their furious mannors. Freddy wasn't sure if he should be impressed or scared. These creatures were something, almost to match an Ursian naval crew. He'd seen a real crew, personally. His uncle was part of the Ursian navy and had allowed Freddy a small ride aboard his ship just around the bays of Ursius. The crew aboard those ships were so uniform and swift in their duties one could imagine there was magic involved... At least that's how Freddy had seen it as a cub.

At that point, they'd pulled away from Sharrow and the dock was almost a lost line on the horizon. It was still visible, however and a _swell_ of kindled hope burst inside him. Freddy rushed to the rail facing the shore and peered far into the growing daylight. Sun was just breaking over the isle mounds of the Sharrow port. On the fading line of the dock, there were many figures. They all moved in jublulant sways and jerks... all except one... the young grizzly only assumed it was Gerard. In that instant, his mind all abandoned its agressions, its frustrations, its toils and from his eyes burst the liquid sorrows from a vault which he'd thought had long sinse been sealed. Into the wind, a single whisper trailed from his lips. "Good-bye's not forever... I'll come home one day... Even if you're not their to greet me..." The figure began to morph into the haze... Only a speck on the fleeing island port. Wheather is was his father or not, Freddy prayed that it was accepting good-bye.

"Fazbear!" Freddy's ears rotated back and his head soon followed, eyes meeting the crimson-coated captain towards the main-mast. There were five crewmen whith him, one large Iguana, one Lynx, one familiar vixen, one older blood-hound... and one Shepherd. In the paws of the shepherd rested a thin strip of leather attached to a stump handle. "Come'ere, lad." Freddy, in spite of the fact that he knew what awaited him, obeyed. It was better that way... quicker. Once among the crew, The Iguana and the Lync each took an arm, the Iguana taking the left and Lynx taking the right. Foxy and the Vixen, who Freddy remembered as Vaha, circled around in front of the grizzly and watched with expressionless muzzles as he was forced to his knees. Eyes all turned to look at him, thinking the act as some sort of humiliation and even cackling at it. Freddy didn't care. He could take jeers and simple bullying. He was accustomed to such elementary teasing. "Frederick Fazbear," Foxy announced to all who had ear to listen, "ye are bein' punished fer the disrespect of'a higher officer n' escapin' confinment. Let this be ye first taste'a our ways, our lives, n' let this be a lesson t'ye n' all who'll think tuh go 'gainst me: Such acts'n th'future will result'n death. Proceed, Mister Shmitd."

Every muscle in Freddy's body tensed, his jaws clenched, his eyes screwed shut. His paws curled into deep fists, claws causing his palms to bleed. There was a moment's hesitation, then it came down on him, smaking hard into his hide, letting loose a thick crack. He didn't cry out. He only allowed a grunt. He wasn't going to let his pride be anymore destroyed. He wasn't going to allow Foxy any pleasure from this. '_Let this be a lesson to **you**, Captain_,' Freddy bit inside his mind. '_I'm not made of glass..._' Another crack across the first, stining deeper than the last. He still did not cry. '_I'm not a prociline doll..._' Another crack. He did not cry. '_You will not break me._' The fourth smack of the whip and Freddy's eyes flew open. They blazed deeper than his very soul. They stared strait ahead. They bore into one being. They bore into Foxy. But the creature did not move. He simple bore back with a fire just as equal.


	13. Chapter 12: A Dangerous Dance

_AN~ Okay, before I continue I realize that there might actually need to be some lore explanation that which won't appear in the fan fiction._

_First- The world in which they live in is named 'Palidus.' It's a planet with 5 Main islands and 12 smaller island chains. The Five main islands are Ursius, Lenaus, Fathrus, Igue, and Solace. Ursius is the capitol of Palidus with a strong Navy and large cities. It is the birthplace of the Bear people, but, now, is a melting pot of many different peoples. Ursians are still, though, the dominant race._

_Second- There are Five Hells in the Paladius Religeon. Hel Een, Infierno Dos, Inferno Terzo, Hel Vier, and Pieklo Piec. There Are also five angels, revered as Gods: Vergiffenis, Vriendelijkheid, De Liefde, Wreedheid and Gevaar. Vergiffenis is the arch Angel and controls the lesser angels._

* * *

His being burned with the definition of soreness, tearing through his every muscular strand and devouring his bone marrow. Aside from that, a wafting, acrid aroma lingered about the space just around his cot; something between gun-powder, body odor, and a rather unnerving tinge of iron-y blood. There was no telling where it all came from. In a place like this, the crew could be the source, for Vergiffenis' sake. Freddy sat himself upright, claws penetrating the wood deck below him with a shallow splinter. His eyes wandered the space, identifying many crew members rolled over in their own cots, but still fast asleep. He was rather confused. As an introduction, Vaha, who Freddy now knew as the Captain's sister, had given him the why's, when's, where's, and how's of the entire ship. One of them was rising shortly before sunrise. Looking out from a cannon bay, Freddy could clearly see that the sun was half-way above it.

'_Well,_' He thought to himself, '_They're not as uniform as I thought._' This was also in Freddy's favor. If he rose before the rest, perhaps he'd avoid another relentless assault. As far as he knew, the only offences worth of death were treason or escaping the brig. Everything else was a stern beating and that was only for lower level crewmen. Freddy was the lowest of such, thus his punishments were the most severe. Still, it was better than being dead or sold into the slave ring. That was a positive, something the young Grizzly rarely thought of. His natural negative attitude towards everything was a quirk he needed to outmatch. In simply moments, he rose to his full stature, venturing to the stairway onto the top deck. As he breached the outside, a cool gust ran its pads through his fur, a salty welcome to the world of the woken. The top deck was lazily drowsy as though all had slept that night. Vaha was in the nest far above, simply giving him a glance before returning to her glass. She was surveying the horizon with interest, something that Freddy turned to, but on the break of the sun, he saw nothing and just passed it off as her own insanity. It might have even been true. The vixen was anything but sane.

The grizzly took a moment to peer over the starboard side onto the glass surface of the water. At the ship's pace, they'd attracted a rather colorful swell of fish. They practically glowed luminous against the dark azure of the sea. Light from the rising sun sent shimmers along the crests of the breakers and the fish scales. "Fazbear!" the voice was harsh and sent all the fur on his back erect. Freddy turned bout, standing strait.

"Yes, Captain?" he inquired, having to forced himself not to spit the words. Foxy strode up to him, paws clenched into the palms.

"War be th'rest'a them?"

"Still sleeping, Captain."

"Still sleepin'? May th'five hells burn wit' me blood! Wake them bastards'n get'em top deck now!"

"Yes, Captain." Freddy shuffled back below deck and did as was asked of him, all the while dodging punches and slicks from claws and curling tails. He'd expected as much resistance, but when they all came full to, they were swift in readying themselves and rushing above deck, simply to be met by Foxy's burning stare. They lined up along the port side, body's quivering like simply pups. Freddy wasn't exactly sure if he was among them.

"Mister Fazbear, come stand b'me." He did so and folded his paws behind his back, watching as those amber eyes bore into each and every soul he now held in hell fire resentment. "Does ye lads know what me's called ye'll up wit' such poison fer?" he asked. No one moved. No one even breathed. "I called ye'll up like'n this 'cause ye're all a conflagration'a worthless, undisciplined blokes! All ye'd be better off at the bottom of the sea! But'cha know what, lads? Me's feelin' in a magnanimous mood. Thus, ye'll spend three days'n the brig. Understood?" There was a unison 'Yes, Captain' before they were all escorted to the lower decks by a large Iguana in off-white shrouds. Foxy turned to the grizzly and looked him up and down. "Now, Mister Fazbear, me does believe ye's in need'a some better attire."

'Or... Any attire at all,' Freddy thought to himself as he walked with Foxy back to his cabin, noting mentally the fact that he usually didn't dress himself unless on a special occasion. Foxy took some moments shuffling around his cabin before presenting Freddy with a simple navy pair of trousers, black Ursian boots, and a red bandanna. They weren't in the best condition and looked as though they'd be rather loose on him. Still, he dressed in them. Just as he was about to the tie the cloth around his neck, Foxy stopped him.

"Has ye no way, lad? Th'band goes 'bout yer head." The statement made Freddy feel slightly dafted, knowing full well he'd see so many others around the ship, including Vaha, who wore the bandannas in such a fashion. He tied it around his head in the back and spread out his paws as if to exhibit his new appearance to Foxy. The crimson canine nodded and pushed him towards the door. "Now, me wants'ye t'head t'work under Mister Boomer. He be a ripe ol' hound by the mainmast. He'll show'ye what ye needs'ta know. Off wit'cha now, lad." He pushed Freddy out the door and closed it back with some un-needed force. Nevertheless, he did as was instructed and found a familiar looking bloodhound rested against a powder barrel with his arms crossed against his thinning form. In the daylight, Freddy could clearly see the illnumeral white strands decorating his muzzle from the tip of his snout to his crest. His flopped ears lilted lazily and his eyes drooped as though he'd been through a life of torment, though Freddy knew that the canine was simply like that. Their race had a trademark appearance.

"Mister Boomer?" Freddy inquired, approaching the old hound with a polite and gentile voice. Boomer perked one lazy ear and shifted his gaze to meet Freddy's.

"Yes?" he answered.

"Captain Foxy has sent me to work under you, sir." The old bloodhound took one sigh and gnawed his hind teeth. With a lumped effort, he pushed from the barrel and waved one paw pad to motion Freddy to follow.

"Yes, cub, come with me." They walked up a flight of stairs onto the wheel-deck where Mike was standing fast at the helm. He gave but a soft glance before returning his steady eyes to the sea. Freddy followed his eyes and looked out on the glimmering sea, sparkling as though it were a pool of diamonds. "Cub." Freddy turned and what quickly handed a bucket of suds and a mop. "Wipe down this deck. Don't disturb Mister Shmitd. Once you're done, come find me fore. I'll give you your next task." He walked slowly on his aged hunches across the deck until he was at the far end. Freddy sighed, taking to his new task with a false vigor only to satisfy the masses and perhaps Captain Foxy if he chose to 'grace' them with his presence.

For the better part of the day, Freddy was forced into laboring tasks along the lines of cleaning, stacking, moving, and any other low-value job that Boomer happened upon in his mind and the old hound hand plenty to spare. By the evening, Freddy was sure he'd done nearly every one of them on the mental list. He wasn't going to complain nor gripe, however. He saw the rest pulling through tasks much more difficult with both skill and joy. They liked their work and took pride in it. To them, it was an art. It was a well-placed hope that, one day, Freddy would be much like them, one to excel in whatever monotonous task was laid before him. He was a long way from it, now. Perhaps in some years, three at least.

Around three P.M., those on deck were called upon and switched out with another set of crew members. Freddy and the rest retreated below deck to the dining area. The space was small, all things considered and this particular ship being the monster she was. Little room on such a ship was given to passenger and crew luxuries, especially if it was run by pirates. There was a short line before a stationary counter where a Lyrebird, Doctor Levi if Freddy remembered correctly, dished out small, wooden bowls. Freddy took his with a nodded thanks and took to finding a place to sit. He honestly didn't want to be anywhere near the rest of the crew members, thus he sat on an empty chair in the far corner, not at all minding the fact that he had to hold his bowl. He was well capable. Still, however hard he tried not to stand out, there was always someone who dared blunt his efforts.

"Hey, cub," called an Iguana from a far table to his left. "Enjoy that lashing yesterday?" Freddy ignored him, taking a chunk out f his biscuit and dipping it in the broth. The lizard didn't much like unacknowledgement and bit at Freddy's silence with another jeer. "Forget your safe-word, lad?" a round of laughs broke from those around him, but Freddy kept his tongue and gaze. The lizard wanted a fight. He wanted to make him mad. Freddy wasn't going to allow him any luxury. "They nick you in the ears, cub? Can't hear me?" He stood up from his table and strode over to Freddy with a puffed chest and flared arms. If it weren't for his Flexing, he'd be smaller than the Grizzly, and he knew it. He bent over, peering into Freddy's blank expression as he finished his meal. "It ain't polite to ignore people, cub," he hissed, breath heavy with tobacco.

"Nor is it to insult them with your scent, but here you are." The Iguana lunged for Freddy's throat, but simply gripped at air, as the grizzly had ducked to the side and slammed his claws hard into the other's left. The lizard yelped into the mass of calls from other crew members and flung after the bear, simply toppling himself over a table and landing snout into a bowl of broth. Freddy arched his paws, jolting his claws out like jagged scythes. He swung at the Iguana, lashing a harsh trail of blood over his disgraced snout. The lizard retaliated with a quick jab to the grizzly's muzzle, but it did little to deter him. Freddy was on him again in moments, ripping at his mussed shirt and arms with a storm of claws and teeth. Freddy had experience with fights. Bar brawls were commonplace on Ursius, especially in his favorite pub where Ursians were even stronger opponents than this simple post-tribal dullard. Still, the lizard continued his attempted assault, and, still, Freddy broke his attack and rolled back with his own. within half an hour, the lizard was almost a heap of mere blood and cuts, still attempting to fight back and doing so in a simple show to make it appear as though he were putting up some sort of fight.

"Excuse me!" the deck fell silent, the Iguana even halting his wriggling with a stiff gasp. Freddy noticed this and stopped as well, turning to the main steps. There, midway down the stairs, was Captain Foxy, ears perked and muzzle giving a 'What-in-the-five-hells' inquiry. "N' what be th'situation here, gents?" he asked, keeping a sort of composure.

"Just dealing with the trash, sir," Freddy grumbled, throwing the iguana to the floor. He much expected a real beating from Foxy, some lash of sorts, but was surprised when the fox leaned over the lizard with a wide-toothed grin, complete with some golden spots.

"Finally get what was commin' to'ya, aye Lyric? Bet'cha stop jeerin' at the young'uns now, aye? Me included." Foxy stood strait, clearing his throat. "But," he began, "Fightin' be against th'rules on me ship, so I be afraid that th'two'a ye are gone' have'ta make it three days wit'out food. To th'deck wit'cha both." He waved one paw-pad over his head as he walked top-deck and Freddy spat a near silent retort at his tail. Gods, he was hating that canine more and more with every passing day. One second he was lashing him stiff, next he was simply smiling like a happy fool. He was about as crazy as his sister.

Still, Freddy followed him up onto the Top deck, Lyric hobbling behind on whatever pride still lived within that horrible sack of flesh. When they were both top-side, the sun had began to nestle into the crook of the pastel horizon, the crystal water shimmering in a similar manner as that morning, but this time like flaming rubies. Per usual, however, Freddy was never left any time to revel in the better things. He was drawn off by someone or another for something he'd either despise or bore from. "Come'ere, Mister Fazbear. Lyric, stay there a'moment. If'ye moves, Vaha'll break yer legs." Lyric's body became ridged as Freddy broke from his side to meet the Captain. "Lad," Foxy began. "Yer walkin' on some real thin ice. Not'ere a day yet'n yer already causin' trouble. Ye knows th'rules n'yet ye still goes'n breaks'm. What's wrong with'cha? Ye like bein' beaten?"

"No sir. I just don't take shit from low lives such as him." Freddy pointed to the iguana who's limbs went stiff at the gesture.

"Aye, me knows he's a troublesome load'a trash. He worked under me father fer some three years and ne'er changed, but fightin' gone get'cha in trouble, laddie, and ye's gone have to pay the price. Ye gets three strikes, mister Fazbear. One more'n ye'll be fish-food. Ye gets 'nother beatin' t'night s'well." Freddy was about to respond, but a voice from across the deck stopped his reply in his throat.

"Foxy!" They turned their heads to catch sight of the grey lynx, Layton as introduced the other day, strutting towards them, cutlass in paw. Foxy merely rolled his eyes and removed his crimson hat, displaying a small patch of scruff that stuck out between his ears. He tossed the hat to Freddy and removed his coat, letting it fall with a heavy thump to the deck.

"What are you doing?"

"I know what'e wants. Th'bastard has a death wish." By the time Layton was at arm's reach, Foxy was down to a simple pair of brown trousers. "Ye better not be doin' what me thinks ye's doin'," the fox warned. Layton hissed.

"I was sick of your father after twenty years," came his gurgle of a voice, "It only took me two months to be sick of you. I'm tired of working under your blasted family with their pointless raids and mercy. I want control of this ship and you're going to dish it over or die trying to keep it." The tip of Layton's cutlass rose under Foxy's lower jaw, but he didn't flinch or removed his eyes from the lynx's.

"We do this fair 'er not'tall, Charles, lest ye want th'hole crew on yer arse." He turned to look at Freddy. "Fetch me swords, will ye?" The grizzly nodded and left for the captain's cabin. Inside, Foxy's prize cutlasses sat mounted behind the head of his chair. They shined as though brand new, fresh from the paws of a blacksmith. They were gorgeous blades as well. Their handles were of pure gold, laced with crimson rope for grip that trailed off at the end. As he reached for them, Freddy stopped... A dark thought dared cross his mind.

He could end it now. Two days in and he already had a chance to rid himself of his debt. One of those cold, steel blades through the back of that fox and he'd be free...Or under the angry paws of a very protective crew... Freddy hadn't seen too much in his short time as part of the crew, but from what he had heard, most of the crew was loyal to Foxy down to their graves. It had something to do with the fox's father, but he'd yet to gather such information. Freddy shook the thought from his head and snagged the blades, holding them carefully in his grip as he carried them out onto the deck. Foxy's head turned slightly to meet his form and his shoulders slowly relaxed. Layton had backed away, but his cutlass was still in hard grip within his paw. "Thank'ye lad," Foxy sighed, holding out his right paw to take the blades. For a short second, Freddy was tempted to bargain with him over his pending punishment, but, again, decided his mind had less than helpful ideas. He handed Foxy the cutlasses and watched as he brought himself into stance. One blade was lodged in each paw and his legs spread out in a sturdy structure. His body screamed readiness... but Freddy was almost taken back by the horror in his eyes.

Those same eyes that had once been alit with all the fires and fury of the five hells now shattered into an expression of utter terror. It was unbelievable. He looked... like a mere kit... Trembling at the skirt of his mother, though his body did not dare to tremble. His paws did not dare to shake. His muzzle did not dare to allude to his inner fear. Luck for Foxy, Layton didn't notice his eyes, or perhaps couldn't read them. Freddy could, but he'd been in long practice, using the skill to determine wheather or not his mother was angry with him when she tried a dull muzzle. One could never hide the emotion in their eyes.

Word quickly got around the mass of La Pirata Cala and, in time, a good collection of the crew was settled on deck, watching with keen eyes as the two creatures began to size one another up. Among them were Mike and Vaha, both with grave expressions. They could see the fear, too. Freddy half expected some of the lower brutes to be taking bets, some clamor, a few amused muzzles, but he didn't. There was conformed stillness. Silence save for the rocking of the ship. All others were expressionless. He didn't know why. It was jarring. The grizzly moved around to stand at Shmitd's side, leaning over to risk a whisper. "What's going on? With the crew, I mean."

Mike took a deep breath. "They're scared. It is the way of a good crew to always know the workings of their captain. They know he's never been in a real fight. He's only twenty." '_Twenty? He's my age... He's so young._' "This crew has practically raised that kit, with the exception of some new arrivals like myself and Vaha. We don't want to see him hurt, let alone lose his family's pride. Pray to the five angels that he'll be alright."

"Does he know how to fight?"

"His father supposedly taught him. If so, there shouldn't be a single worry, but... He can be arrogant in the face of victory." They circled one another for some moments more before suddenly stopping. Foxy's back was to Freddy, Layton's muzzle towards him. They stared, eyes locked in some sort of mental game. Then, Charles was the first to lunge. He leapt at Foxy, bringing his cutlass about his left shoulder and going to swing. Foxy, however, was swift. He rolled off and let the cutlass slash nothing but salty air. Layton turned about and lunged again, this time going for a quick jab. This, again, met only air as its target spun out of range, steadying himself across the circle of bodies. The lynx wouldn't allow a moment to be wasted and he was up and at it again with another set of swings. Foxy simply dodged the advances, movements becoming smoother, more relaxed at every missed cut, every mere swish of the steel past his form. Layton, however, let his form become erratic. He swept this way and that with his sword, only meeting the place that his target used to be. Again he'd swing and again he'd miss.

He took one quick advance towards Foxy but the canine didn't dodge. This time, he met the steel with his own, forming a barrier 'X' with his blades in a sort of shield. They met with a sharp clank, sparks lighting from their collision. It made Freddy's lungs leap into his throat, but not in fear; rather excitement. He'd never seen such a duel beyond sparing and there wasn't any risk there, only two people trying to hone their skills. This was drastically different. This was danger. This was risk. This was a death wish looking for its beholder. His breaths became shallow and deep while others were held, biting tongues and knuckles.

Meanwhile, Foxy and Layton where locked together, blades pressing hard into one another as their arms shook from the sheer force they were being pressured by. Their eyes didn't waver, their legs held fast. Then Foxy lifted his right and kicked out, sending Layton back some feet before Foxy struck him with another kick to the side of the head. The lynx refused to stay down, however, and was up again in a matter of seconds, assaulting the Captain with a storm of metal. Foxy wasn't dodging anymore. He met each swing with one of his own, clashing their cutlass' together with a rain of fire. Sparks clattered to the deck with every blow.

* * *

_My heart raced like it had never done before. Never had I felt such an exhilarating thrill, even if my life was at stake, even if the blade of my foe swept just inches before me. It was like dancing. A strange, dangerous dance._

* * *

Foxy was, again, the one to deliver his blow, lashing at Charles with a swift kick which knocked him to the deck. A strange smile broke across Foxy's muzzle. He spread his arms, grinning wide at the man before his paws who's form was exhausted and body shaking as though in a freezing wind. "Are ye done, yet, mister Layton? Done bein' a fool? Ready to accept the brig?" The Lynx shook his head, teeth bared.

"I won't be done until you're dead." In that moment, he lunged, slashing his blade in a cross manner... Foxy wasn't ready...

Everyone writhed from the very sound, the sickening echo that sent chills through Freddy's spine, of steel tearing through flesh.


	14. Chapter 13: Fetter

_The sun rising over Ursius... A sight I had many times seen from the harbor and reveled in due to its majesty... But not now... Not today... Not anymore... The only person I had left in my life was gone to a band of cut-throats and had gone willingly... I knew my son wasn't the cleanest, but pirates? How did he even get himself into that situation? From what I could guess, he must have talked with the captain of the ship, a ship which I knew all too well... I didn't tell him, however... I did not allude to my familiarity. It wasn't the same Lenan who captained her, anyway. From the looks of the youngling, he had to be related... His son, perhaps. Of all things, Pirates took family seriously. None of it mattered anymore, though. My son was gone... Most likely to be dead within weeks._

_...And... as much as it pained me... many things had to be done..._

* * *

When the doors of the diner swung open, clicking against the little brass bell, Chica turned to greet whomever entered with a vivacious warmth, but, when her eyes befell he who had done so, her smile dropped like an anchor. "Gerard!" she cried, rushing to him and grabbing the Ursian's arms. Gerard himself looked worn, battered, tired, and slightly bewildered by the rather noticeable bulge in the Hen's naval. Nonetheless, he managed to collect himself enough to answer her questions. "Are you alright? We heard so many rumors of a merchant ship going down shortly after you left." Gerard nodded.

"Yes... It's true. The Moore Runner sank to the depths... taking many with her." The hen's soft eyes began to sheen as though becoming considerably more moist.

"Who...?"

"Captain Oslow... A few crewmembers who's names have escaped my mind..."

"What about Freddy? He's alright?" Gerard cringed.

"Alive...? Maybe... Alright...? Far from it..."

"What do you mean? Was he hurt?"

"No."

"Then... what, Gerard? Where is he? Can we see him?" Gerard's grey eyes slowly rose to meet hers. The look within their abyss swarmed in the midst of populous sorrow. He, too, looked as though he were about to cry. One of his paws came to rest upon her wing, holding it, squeezing it as though to try and make sure it were all real... None of it felt so... The sinking... the raid... the brig... Frederick... The chain of events made his very life feel like a dream, a simple fantasy that had passed him by... and now... he'd finally woken up.

"No," was his quiet wisp of a reply. "Not now... Not for a long time... Perhaps... never again..." Confusion racked the hen. She wasn't at all sure what he meant. "He stayed..."

"Stayed? Stayed where?" came Bonnie as he exited the kitchen, throwing his apron aside and running his paws along his legs.

"Stayed with the pirates who attacked us... He made... a deal with their captain. I don't even know all the details." Bonnie and Chica looked at one another, eyes locking together with weariness, worry... fear. Freddy hadn't always been the most courteous companion, the most polite, the happiest, the most enjoyable to have around... but he was still their friend. They'd all grown up together, been together through thick and thin, good and bad. They were a part of each other and now... One part was missing... Like a tree without its roots.

Going back and thinking about it, they knew Freddy was honestly the one that held them together. His views had always brought them down to earth, kept them together because he hated to see them all apart. As a cub, he'd insisted they all play together, in spite of their differences and opinions. It was THAT behavior through all his life, their lives, that kept them as fettered together as they currently were and because of that that they had managed to find love. In spite of Freddy's... personality they owed him so much... LOVED him so much... And now he was miles away; hundreds of miles... Love could survive distance, but only by a thread... An easily severed thread... A thread called life... One which, when severed, made love give way to grief. They all knew that very well.

"He's gone..." It was more of a statement than a question on Bonnie's part. Gerard nodded.

"Gone..."

* * *

_It was surreal, like it wasn't actually happening despite it staring me right in the muzzle. There he was, standing there, gloating in what one would assume was victory, then, in the next moment, his right paw was clear gone, somewhere across the deck and all he could do was stare at it. It was all I could do. It was all anyone could do. I could have gone the rest of my life without seeing something like that and would have much rather looked away, averted my eyes from one of the most gruesome, grotesque sights I'd ever bore witness... yet... I couldn't. My eyes were attached to it... Attached to the blood-spurted stump that had once been a fully-functional body part. His dominant paw, even. Gods... He'd lost._

_Foxy's eyes slowly drew towards Layton, bright and wide. The Lynx was looking on with the same astonishment he was being met with. All the while, the Captain's breathing began getting labored and his arm stiffened in a clench, yet, in spite it all, to the surprise of everyone there who looked on at him with the assumption that it was finished, Foxy rose the saber in his left and smashed the butt hard down on Layton's skull. The impact sent the cat sprawling onto the deck._

_With a sharp voice, gargled in a sort of controlled pain, Foxy looked to Mike and spoke. "Th-Throw'im in th'brig, M-mister Schmidt." In the last word his voice broke and he grabbed his wrist, rushing back into his cabin with Doc. Levi and Vaha close on his heels. He'd dropped both his sabers onto the deck and I felt compelled to take them and bring them along as I went after them. Honestly, I didn't think I'd be allowed in, but neither the doctor nor the vixen stopped me as I entered. They simply spared me a sideways glance before tending to the captain who, at this point, was screaming bloody murder._

_"Gods blast it!" He bellowed, holding tight to the severed stump, agony shattering his voice across our ears._

_"Hold-hold Still-ll Captain. Just a- Just a moment and I'll-I'll have the bleeding ended." In Levi's wing he held a glowing red slab of metal. It steamed like fire, which drew me to wonder its use. I was swiftly informed as the metal was pressed hard into the wound. Another shattering cry escaped Foxy's muzzle along with fountain's of tears from his amber eyes... Liquid fire..._

_The rod was removed and, at that, the worst of the bleeding gone. Levi quickly wound linen around Foxy's limb and left, saying he'd be back with some medication. Vaha had placed herself at her brother's side, holding his remaining paw and a look of sympathy in her eyes. The male was still in both a state of shock and after burn. Gods, it looked awful... painful as the lightless flames of the hells. I don't think I could even imagine a physical pain so deep... emotional, though... That I understood... In time I knew he'd grow to miss it, his paw. Losing a loved one is much like losing a part of yourself. It was always there and then it's gone. You'd never had time to really value it._

_I wouldn't voice a single word like that, however. I was finished creating stressful situations. When the worst of Foxy's reaction seemed ebbed, I placed the saber's delicately on his desk. "Here," was all I managed, voice threatening to betray me._

_"That'll do," Vaha responded, "You're dismissed."_

_"Nay," Foxy broke. "Let'im stay fer th'moment... Me needs some new comp'ny right now..." He sounded like me after I'd had one too many drinks and tried to hide it. He was masking pain, however, and not intoxicaton. He was brave, I'd give him that. "Lad," he began. "Ye can ferget th'punishment t'night... We'll let't slide... Me wants ye t'stand outside me quarter's t'night... Keep watch. Done ask why. Jus' do it. Savy?"_

_I nodded. "Yes, Captain."_

_For the first time, the words came easy._


	15. Chapter 14: The Expired

Gouden descended below deck, passing many of his crew who greeted him much like any commoner who saw him, with a simple nod. They weren't the object of his attention, however, nor were they ever unless involved with some mishap about the 'Lucid Dreamer.' Still, he managed to return the gesture as they passed, almost all Ursians and, if they weren't, they were lower class Crewmen. In one paw he managed to balance a small platter of gruel, fit for no living thing... save for... _him. _He stepped onto the lowest deck, save for the bilge, and gave a passive jerk towards the door, intended to signal the single guard to leave, which he did, accustomed to the routine every two days. That which was nestled in the small compartment below the working decks and even the brig itself was a small space mostly dedicated to cage which reached along the length of the space with ebony iron bars. The the door was a wriggling curve of wrought-iron, curved into a rather light-hearted design, yet, nevertheless, a prison was a prison, no matter it's glamour. Along the floor was settled a rather posh rug, disgraced by the paw-woven designs of the gypsy culture, embedded in hues of gold, emerald, and a royal purple, long since crestfallen due to its use by the muddled people, blue its more fitting replacement among royals. A small, twin bed was settled on Gouden's left, pushed as far into the corner as the ship's curved hull would allow. The blanket was a similar design as the rug, soft in appearance but Gouden liked to fancy that it kindled the fur of pure-bloods like hell-fire did flesh. Monstrosities such as its owner, however, thrived in the unholy. Gypsies themselves were not all in horrible liking to the people. Most were honestly good at their respective trades, but _he _was not only of a crude minority, but an even cruder still... A disgrace to the Duivel bloodline...

His fur was once a similar shine, so easily akin to Gouden's and justly so. Anyone could easily see a resemblance, yet... None ever did. Hardly anyone even knew of his existence. Wandelen Verlopen had the body of a gypsy peasant, a female rather beautiful, lovely at best, yet nothing in comparison to Gouden's mother, Gezegend; and, still, his father strayed, a horrible sin to one so much less than what he already possessed. Thus, Wandelen was born, a curse upon the Duivel family to be expunged, one which Gouden would much rather rid himself of excruciatingly... However... He felt some small, insignificant pull towards the disgraced muzzle of his partial kin. He had the blessed hide of the family, of course... Thus, it must be slowly taken away before removed completely and Wandelen killed, speared like a proper beast. So, Gouden stowed his 'brother' away, somewhere which he'd never be seen by any who's dare slander his father's name, or his, if rumor did spread in such ways.

Gouden's process was a lengthy one, but working thus far. He kept Wandelen alive, of course, but barely so. As the Ursian approached the cell, the long ears of the spawn turned hind towards the sound of his kin, twitching with each heavy boot that clacked against the wooden deck. "Fáilte ar ais, deartháir," he gargled in the Lenan tongue, though he was not of such blood-line. Gouden could play that game, too.

"Beannachtaí, Beast. Fós beo, féach mé. Ná fret. Beidh a a shocrú luath go leor."

The Gypsy's head lowly twisted back and forth, shaking his stiff, mangy fur loose. "You cannot fix that which is not broken. If you need something to occupy yourself with, however, need you only look in the mirror." Gouden scoffed, kicking the platter under the cell gate.

"I hardly call that entertainment. You shouldn't be so course, though. Don't bite the paw that feeds you, lest I extend the period to three days between meals. I could also reduce your water. I'm sure my crew would much appreciate a little extra in their ration. Anyway, I come today with a little story for you. I've been approved by the council to expunge these waters of any who I deem guilty of piracy or acts against the crown. Would be a true shame if my own kin were among the lot, wouldn't you say, Wandelen? Though, there would need to be someone among my blood who's do something so disciple, wouldn't there? Do you know of any?" The hare spat once across his cell and lifted a small shard from his rug. It had once been a full-length mirror, yet was broken in one of their more destructive bouts. He held it to Gouden's eye level and merely glared, allowing the response to sink it. At it, Gouden's paw was through the bars at tossing the gypsy to the deck, the glass sent flying out of reach in the Ursian's area beyond the cell. "Mr. Dixen!" A white-furred Ursian marched down to the deck, looking Gouden up and down with a respectful nod.

"Yes, Captain Duivel?"

"Did you or did you not hear Mr. Verlopen confess to Piracy?"

"Yes,Sir."

"And did you or did you not hear him confess to conspiracy against the crown, Ursius, and the Subprime Commander of Ursius' Naval power?"

"Yes, Sir."

"What is the penalty for such?"

"Death, Sir. Death by lynching." Gouden's pit-less orbs stared down at Wandelen, meeting his cent-doubloon silver.

"So be it," He mumbled, giving no effort to hide his grin. "It is with a heavy heart that I do sentence Mr. Verlopen to hanging once we return to Ursius." With those words, Gouden turned heel and left, walking up the stairs with a new vigor in his stride. Wandelen could care less. He knew, some day, his brother would take away the last thing he had left to value.

* * *

_~Translations_

_Fáilte ar ais, deartháir: "Welcome back, brother"_

_Beannachtaí, Beast. Fós beo, féach mé. Ná fret. Beidh a a shocrú luath go leor: "__Greetings, beast. Still alive, I see. Don't fret. That'll be fixed soon enough." _


	16. Chapter 15: Only a Void

Exhaustion was a hard thing to fight. Having been up most of the night, all of it actually, Freddy was on the brink of unconsciousness, teetering on it's thinnest edge. Still, he had to remain awake for whatever reason there was behind Captain Foxy's assignment. Freddy couldn't help but feel some small shard of pity for him, after all. He'd just lost his paw! The night was pretty, too. Being out at sea made the stars reflect on the calm waters like a mirror, the horizon and aqua plane morphing into one canvas.

"Mister Fazbear," came the meek call from inside Foxy's cabin. Freddy answered promptly, turning inside and standing before Foxy's desk, but with a rather perplexed expression on his muzzle. Before foxy lay a few items, a small some carved out of wood and painted black, a pair of tongs, a hammer, and a metal hook. He looked up at Freddy, eyes riddled with the same exhaustion that Freddy imagined was portreyed in his own eyes. He pressed his remaining left paw against his temple and closed his eyes, motioning towards the metal hook with his stub. "Me needs yer help 'ere laddie." Freddy slowly stepped forward, picking up the hook and looking between it and Foxy. "Take that thar hook'n help me put't in this thing'a wood, aye?"

"Yes captain." The response was shallow, almost emotionless as he wasn't entirely sure what the purpose of it was. He grasped the hook and then the dome of wood. With a little effort, he managed to get the blunt end of the hook into the dome. He then gave the device to Foxy who nodded appreciation. "What... What is that for?"

"Just'a... Just'a idea. Me was thinkin' lots fer th'past few hours and me had'n idea. Me wanted t'put somethin' place'a me paw. Wit'a little thinkin' me got th'notion t'use a hook. S'good fer graspin' n' snaggin' n' stabbin'. Done ye agree?" Freddy's crystal eyes were wide, but pondering. He honestly thought about it and couldn't think of any reason _not _to, but wasn't a fan. How would he get it to stay on, anyway? In fact, he'd ask.

"How... How will it stick?"

"Puddy..."

"Puddy?"

"Aye. It be'a real thick'n sticky. Vaha knows how'ta make it'n me'll use't 'ta plaster me hook. Besides that, laddie, yer free'ta go. Get some sleep. T'morra we'll be in Zeeptin." Freddy gave a relieved nod and made his way below deck. He was finally being allowed some rest. His cot lay undisturbed mid-deck, the rest of the daytime crew already fast enveloped into the realm of their dreams. He'd soon join them... but something... something in the back of his mind was nagging him, something persistent and implacable. It ate at him like an itch he could not scratch. It was irritating. Maybe he'd forgotten something... However, as he was unable to remember, he slowly nestled into his cot and fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

_It was all... white... It was white inside and out and radiated with the very color. Shadows were nonexistent anywhere but upon himself and not even one below. There wasn't even a ground below, simply himself floating, what felt like, miles above the land, except there was no land... only a void. It was vivid, as well. It felt like he was awake, though he was positive he was dreaming, knowing full well that he couldn't at all be awake... though... this was a very unique dream... he'd had them before, but this... this was something... else... It was quiet, too... Unnervingly so... But that silence was broken... easily by an all too familiar voice... a calming voice, one smooth yet aged. _

_"I guess he thought... it was the right thing to do... He's messed up, though... He's made a horrible mistake... We could have gotten out... together... Instead he bands with a group of pirates..." It was... Gerard. His father's voice felt like honey to his ears, but he could not fathom the words he spoke. He'd never heard his father say them before. _

_"His heart was in the right place..." came another... _

_"Bonnie..." Freddy gripped at the name and looked about him, trying to figure out what was going on. This dream... it was making him ill. _

_"He was thinking of someone other than himself for once... for the first time in a while... You have to admire that..." _

_"I had thought of that..." came Gerard once more, "but the one time he does... he dooms himself to a lifetime of branding and captivity at the paws of that crimson beast... I've lost my son... I've lost everything..." Freddy's Crystal eyes sheened, newly wet and threatening to betray his reserve. _

_"Papa... I told you, I'm not dead! You haven't lost me until I'm dead!" His voice was nothing but a whisper to the ocean of others now joining it. They were all pointless, mindless babble to his ears, not even Ursian language. though they were also whispers, together they formed a scream that rang agonizingly blaring in his head. He clenched his claws to the sides of his head, grinding down on his teeth. _

_"Can you understand them...?" They all stopped at that voice... a soft... frail voice... Freddy's eyes befell the owner, a strange figure... thin in the torso with very lanky limbs. It was like nothing he'd ever seen before. It's flesh was hairless, soft yet covered head to toe in scars.. It's... face was battered deeply, torn in many places and healed over many times... But... the two wings upon its back were pristine... healthy and beautiful. They spread out wide as though to embrace the entire universe. They were white, as well, almost as white as the world around them and glowing just as bright. They looked so odd... so out of place upon the back of the strange and beaten creature before him... "Can you?" the voice was female..._

_"No... I can't..." She, he guessed, nodded. _

_"It is hard to understand the words of your loved ones if you're too wrapped up in yourself to listen... To you.. they were just words... meaningless words... Every 'I love you...' Every 'Good night...' You passed them off so nonchalantly that I wondered if you ever cared at all... I wondered if you even had a heart... You... Surprised me, however... something a mortal has not done... in a long time... So... I give you my words... my knowledge... and ask you to use it... Plead for you to use it... Never take love for granted... You are not entitled to its affections... you are not worthy of them... no one is... yet it grants itself upon you because that... is what love truly is... Giving when you know that you will not receive... Loving, even if you are not loved... Always act out of love... Always act of yout heart's accord... If you listen... it has much to say..."_

* * *

In an instant it was gone, a fleeing memory upon his mind and the last of his worries. The ship was rolling to and fro, raging in an oceanic quake. "Up, Fazbear! Up! We're under siege!"

_**Love is not a victory march... It's cold... and It's broken... hallelujah...**_

* * *

_AN~ I hate having to put a note at the end of this, but the last words have to be Identified. The song is "Hallelujah" by Leonard Cohan. SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT. This chapter has been a long time coming and the execution was pretty brutal on my behalf. SORRY THAT IT IS BRUTAL. I am horrible about sobby crap, yet I tend to write it and I horribly think I suck at it. Slap me, if you will. _


	17. Chapter 16: Brace

The entire vessel rolled over to it's starboard side before righting itself then rolling over again. Freddy was unsure if this was due to its own cannons firing or being pelted by another. He could hear the obvious thunder outside the ship... cannons, for sure... and not La Pirata Cala's. He rushed above deck and was immediately thrown to his back. From there he could see the masts of another ship, not but fifty yards away. Her bow lit with balls of smoke as she fired once more and pelted La Pirata Cala. Foxy was next to Mike, holding fast to the side-rail with his remaining paw. His eyes fell upon Freddy and he motioned for him to approach. The Ursian stumbled to his feet just as La Pirate Cala fired her own cannons, hitting the other ship directly. The shock wave from the blast caused the ship to roll again, knocking Freddy to his knees. Anyone on deck held fast to whatever stationary object they could find. Freddy stood again and made his way to the helm where Foxy put his right arm around his shoulders. "It be'n Ursian fleet vessel, a full galleon like this'un. She's got'erself 'n entire fleet behind'er. If'n we can sink this'un, though, the fleet's small 'n we'll be able t'manage."

"What if we can't sink her?" Foxy's jaw opened and closed some few times before his answer rolled from them.

"Then what? What can we do? She'll either sink us er take us captive." Another volley of cannon fire caused La Pirata Cala to roll again. Freddy grasped the rail and Foxy leaned against him to stop himself from falling over. They watched as Mike steered her around to get a better vantage point on their foe, but it became clear that her rear was no safer. Stationed on her stern was a mortar cannon which appeared to be in waiting. Foxy walked around Freddy and yanked the Ursian to follow. They got against the rail to the right. "She'll fuck'us up, she will. Brace, Mister Fazbear." Freddy ducked down. Foxy stood up strait and glared down at all the crew remaining on deck. "Bra-!" as he was about to dispense a warning, the mortar fired. The ball dropped with a hefty blast, rocking La Pirata Cala more violently than the cannon fire could have ever, causing Foxy to lose his balance. The back of his legs knocked against the rail. Freddy tried to reach out and grab him, but his claws narrowly missed the hem of Foxy's long-coat and he flipped over the rail. Foxy managed himself, however, as his hook latched onto the port-window of his cabin. The puddy almost gave way, but he grabbed the base of the device with his other paw.

Freddy looked over the rail at him. He was too far down for the Ursian to reach. "Can you climb up?" he called over another volley of cannon fire. Foxy nodded and attempted to pull himself up. The cannon balls hit, however, and La Pirata Cala rolled once more. Foxy's back legs scratched violently as he attempted to cling to the ship. Freddy's heart was in his throat before his mind caught up to the situation. "Captain overboard!" he barked. Mike's right ear twitched and he turned to a crewman just under the wheel.

"Grab some line, Lemone! Get him back on deck before she fires again!" The feline nodded and snatched a spare strand of rope from the banister before rushing to Freddy's side. She handed the Ursian one end of the rope and wrapped the spare of his end about his paw. With incredible speed, she tied somewhat of a noose at the other end before tossing it down to the dangling Captain.

"Line ho!" her voice screeched above the chaos around them. Foxy was quick to sag the rope and put one aft-paw through the noose. With his hook, he balanced himself against the hull of the ship and the other clasped tightly to the life-line. "Hold tight, lad," Lemone warned just as Foxy pushed off from the ship and set all his weight upon the line. Freddy was jerked slightly by the sudden addition of force, but righted himself as Lemone began to help him haul Foxy over the banister. They could only haul for a few moments between volley's of fire, either towards or from La Pirata Cala, but within the third heave, Freddy took hold of Foxy's long coat and yanked him onto the deck just before the ship rolled again.

Captain Foxy took no time to recover, however. "Status report, Mister Shmitd!"

"We've taken some dire hits, sir, but we're giving as good as we're getting. One of us is going to give and I pray it isn't us."

"It damn well better not be 'else I'll have yer head! This's me father's ship!"

"Yes, because I am definitely in control of the location of the Ursian fleet and their captain. Bet you didn't know I was a psychic."

"Hush that smart muzzle 'r I'll lash't shut!"

"You can give me fifty later! Focus on our more immediate problems, _Captain!_" Freddy leaned over the railing, peering hard at the aft end of their adversary. One of the crew was fiddling with the mortar, so such that it brought cause for concern.

"She's priming her mortar!" he roared over the incredible volume of the deck's chaos. Foxy heard it, even if the rest of the crew couldn't. He looked at the powerful weapon, ears slowly drooping towards the sides of his head.

"She shouldn't be primed this soon!" screamed Mister Shmitd.

"Steer us away, Damn it!"

"I can't! She's already on us!" Something escaped Foxy's muzzle, but it was just a whispter, something incohearent and impossible to understand.

"What?" Freddy inquired as loud as he could manage. Foxy seemed to find his voice, though still just barely audible.

"Brace..." Mike served as the amplifacation.

"Brace!" It took the crew only seconds to hold fast or dive for cover. With his paw, Foxy forced Mike to the deck and with his hook, did the same to Freddy who covered his head, mainly his ears. Moments passed... torturous moments... aching moments of agonizing wait... Then came the thunder... the thunder of the Mortar as it rocketed into the sky above their heads... it seemed like forever until it landed... it landed mid-deck, blasting apart into projectile splinters and fire... Gods... it rained fire... ashes and cynders penlted the deck along with flaming shards of deck and main-mast. Said mast was creeking and tilting uneasily mid-ship, so much so that there was no dount that it was finished. La Pirata Cala was finished... the moment the mast collapsed...

Foxy slwoly lifted his head, looking over to the opposing fleet which began to enclose around La Pirata Cala, forming a wall... as the other Man-a-War pulled along side her... His eyes said all they needed to... All he antisipated... All the lost hopes... broken expectations... all the failure... "P-prepare... t-be boarded..."


	18. Chapter 17: The Pull of Death

_He strode onto her deck with an air about him that told me all it needed to. He was an entitled bastard and a decorated one, at that, outfitted with the trimmings of a navel master for Ursius. In spite of such being my home force, I detested such personel with a passion, having met a few in my lifetime and seeing what cruel beasts they could be, especially to the civilians they swore to protect. No corruptor monsters existed within my home's sanctum. They lined us up on the deck, paws bound behind out backs. Irony had to have been eating the captain alive, by now. _

_"Good morning Gentlemen," breathed the ursian, tilting his formal hat towards the mass of the line. "I am Gouden Duivel of the Ursian Naval vessel 'Lucid Dreamer'. I noticed the black-flag you flew and thought I might drop by and remind you that Piracy is illegal and, per custom, punishable by death." He reached under his long-coat with one honey-hued paw and brandished a flint-lock pistol, decorated in golden accents and regal carvings that coated most issued pistols. He pressed one musket ball into the chamber and pulled back the hammer. "Now, please be so kind as you turn over your captain." _

_The deck was silent as it could be along Zeeptin's coastline. Waves crashed against the cliffs and salt water misted along the railing of the ships, big and small, yet not one crew member apt to say one word, move one muscle... I could have... I could have told that Ursian everything... I could have given it all up... gotten free with only a few words... But I didn't... I didn't because... well... I thought about the crew... There were good peopole there, tied up and treated like trash, just like me... Mike... a dog who had made a few bad decisions, Boomer... a harmless old thing only hoping to retire in better shape then he came into the world... And Foxy... He was so young... same age as me, in fact... No life should be taken so early... So I stayed silent as the rest._

_"No one will save their owen hide to simply give me the identity of their captain?" Still silent. I looked about the muzzles of the pirates by my sides. There was no movement at all, save for the occational sigh. The Ursian continued to pace, pitless eyes growing more and more furrowed as time passed. He made several rounds across the deck of the ship, watching us each with a keen eye. I was heavily compelled to look at Foxy, wanting to see his expression, decifer his emotional state, but if I did... Gods only knew... "I guess... you'll ALL have to hang for his crimes..." _

* * *

There was a suddent impulse... a streak across his eyes... One defining moment...

* * *

_The captain was on his feet, his remaining paw free from its binds. With it, he brandished a dagger, a very familiar dager, for but a split second before lunging like a beast at the Naval Captain. It was quick... too quick... but... The Ursian was faster. Foxy's paw was caught in a vice and the Lenan was hoisted off the deck with nonchalont ease. "So, you're the captain." The tone of his voice was sickly-sweet, a tepid wash over what I was used to... I didn't know if I liked it too much. "Thank you for bravely revieling yourself. It saved me a lot of work and your crew a few more days to live." Foxy struggled with all his might, wriggling like a netted fish on a shallow bank, but his youthful strength was little compared to the conditioned physique of a trained soldier. "You, however... Well, I'd love to reward bravery but a pirate is a pirate and I'm afraid I cannot allow your crimes to go unpunished." _

_"W-what proof have ye of 'ny crimes I done committed? I ain't seen no navy men in me short excersion on these waters!" _

_"We don't need proof. Thanks to the juristiction of the Ursian Navel council and our beloved king, I am to handle any vessel hoisting the black flag with extream predjudice. Her crew more so... Her Captain... personally." He brought the fashioned pistol up and leveled it against Foxy's temple. _

* * *

_The cold metal... It could've been any form of metal that made me feel no different, but this metal was a deathly one... It chilled me right down to the marrow of my bones... Through my fur, through my skin, through the muscles that clothed my vitals... I could feel that deathly chill against my skull and could think of no feeling more sinister, more melevolent than that which Gounden Duivel carried with him; not just with his stained and crestfallen pistol, but with his very soul... I could see it in his eyes... the emptyness... the hollow...The void where no conciousness dwelled. He hadn't known him but less than an hour and I already knew what he was... A demon... Hell..._

* * *

Freddy's crystal eyes grew wide and locked themselves on the captain's form, still struggling with everything it could to free itself from certain death. He wanted to look away, let it go without the memory burned into his brain... but there was no way... no way in the hells... he was going to let it happen. A surge of power corsed through his being, a monsterous force, one so motivated, if only my itself, to make him move and thus he did. With every pound of his body, Freddy lunged forward, paws still pound, and smashed headlong into Duivel. The very suddeness of it sent the Ursian sprawling across the deck and Foxy to the wooden boards below. The opposing crew was up in an instant, waving their swords and muskets in a frantic attempt to subdue, but the seeds had already been sewn. La Pirata Cala's crew was up and raging, biting and whipping their tails about in a lop-sidded, yet oddly successfull battle.

Foxy regained himself quickly, taking his dagger and slicing whatever binds he could managed before being pulled into a fray of fists and swords. Freddy was among those freed, but did not simply occupy himself with the crewman rabble. He went right for the demon himself. Claws ached for bloodshed, ached to slice through flesh like warm knives... Who was he to deny them their lust? A fire was alit inside him, something knew and uncontrolable... He sprang on all-fours, launching himself at the Ursian once more. The honey-coat managed to roll away, causing the Grizzly to slam into the deck, but the impact hardly fazed him. He was up and at it again in second, slashing wildly, without form, without goal, but with a passion, though unguided. His ebony claws lashed out, pearl teeth snapping and sheening in the morning light. None of it, however, met with his target.

* * *

_I had seen him run off out of the corner of my eye, but I had never known what he was doing until my eyes befell him that moment. I'd freed myself from a scuffle of gunfire and steel to see him behaving like some unhinged lunatic, claws being used in a fashion that hadn't been formed for thousands of years. His snout was curled in a demonic snarl and he was snapping his jaws just inches from his intended target: Duivel himself. I couldn't let the cub continue that... He'd get himself killed. I rushed to him, my dagger fresh in my paw, slightly lop-sided in my weaker appendage, but a blade in my paw was better than his teeth. _

* * *

Foxy's own driving force barreled into Gouden, knocking him back slightly, but not doing much better than what little Freddy had managed. He grabbed Foxy's paw and threw him back before delivering a stuff jab to Freddy's muzzle. The grizzly was surprised, knocked back, torn asunder and toppled to the deck along-side Foxy. Gouden swiftly snatched up both of them by their throats, muzzle curled in a sickl grin. "Now, now... That was a fun littl exercised, but I'm afraid it ends here." The ammount of strength behind Gouden's vice was astonishing, something unworldly... He looked Freddy dead in the eyes, his own boring into the smaller Ursian. "I hate doing this to one of my own, esepcially one with blue eyes. Blue is the color of Royalty and blue eyes means royal blood-lines, but I digress. I pirate is a pirate, no matter how pretty. A musket ball is too good for you two... oh yes... Maybe you'll fare better-" he walked to the nearest banister and forced their heads down against the wooden mold, "...In the blades of the islands." One strong heave and they were tossed over the edge of the ship, not falling long before hitting the swelling breakers below, tearing across the Zeeptin bay with demonic force.

One breaker sloshed atop Freddy's head, sucking him under and slamming him against the butt-end of a jagged rock which decorated the outer bay of Zeeptin. It was part of an ancient formation called "The wall of thorns." Hundreds of rocks lined the bay, almost all of them sharp as the point of a sword. Freddy kicked agressively, attempting to get himself above water. His muzzle broke the surface only momentarily before being forced under again. He couldn't hear anything, he couldn't see beyond the green-blue of the salt water. His eyes stung deep into the pupils. His thrashing continued, breaking the surface and spashing the white edges of the water across his field of view, oscuring whatever there was to be seen beyond water and jagged walls of rock.

Within a matter of minutes, his body felt hot, worn, heavy as thought rocks were lashed to his torso. He struggled against it, against the exhaustion, against the deep ebony of the abyss below... but this time... it's pull was too much... and there was no one there to save him...


	19. Chapter 18: Lost

_AN~ TROLLLOLLLLLOLLLOLOLOLOLOOLLLOOOOL *Clear's Throat* I hope you are enjoying this story and Thank you to the user Alexis for such... avid enjoyment of this fanfiction. Your reviews always make me smile. _

* * *

_They were a troublesome group, no more than the last; less than actually. Once their captain was skillful disposed of, they all simmered to a slight agitation, yet stopped fighting entirely. The more threatening ones were not worth the risk and quickly executed before the rest were transferred over to my ship. A small squad of my own crew remained on board the pirate's vessel to keep it in decent distance from my own vessel on our voyage back to Ursius._

* * *

"Admiral Duivel," The Fennic's voice was meek as ever, questioning himself with every addressing of his commanding officer. Duivel's ears swerved back to perk at his Second in command.

"Yes, Mister Fitzgerald? Speak." Mister Fitzgerald teetered on his heels, his claws tapping in uncertainty. His tail curled between his legs, flicking slightly on end. "Come, now, child. Speak." Gouden tried a calmer, softer tone, in the hopes it would coax his companion to voice. The very coo of it seemed to do just that.

"Well, Admiral, sir... It's... Wandelen..." his voice dropped to but a whisper but he still received a harsh shushing from his superior.

"Hush, child. In private. My quarters." There wasn't even a second dedicated to a coherent response before they both shuffled rather awkwardly into the Cabin, closing the artistry carved door with an almost aggressive slam. This was a somewhat unofficial indicator that the Admiral was to be undisturbed until word of otherwise was announced, wordlessly, of course. The crew of the Lucid dreamer was always keen to such inaudible actions and were well to acknowledge them with care. "Now..." Gouden continued, pulling his paw slowly from the ivory handle of his door, letting the smooth material glide across the pads of it, "What is it about Wandelen?" Jeremy nodded, giving a rather typical gulp before continuing with his previous attempt.

"Well... He isn't... right... Something is the matter with him and we few that have been watching him worry about a possible-"

"Escape?"

"Suicide." The very world sent a chill down Gouden's spine. It was never a pleasant thought, even for the likes of his estranged blood, no matter the vendetta. Though... he never wanted a sucide... he wanted to skin the beast himself, making said news upsetting. "He's been pacing, kicking around some glass and staring at his wrist. he's giving no effort to keep it from us."

"This is unfortunate... Take everything out of his cell. Bring HIM to my quarters. I'll watch over him for the time it takes to accomplish said task."

"Yes sir."

* * *

_The painting... it was always there for me. We'd had it done when he was only three years old. The task it was keeping him still was worth the product... it was something Gaia and I had cherished for years, looking at it every crestfallen moment of our lives. It reminded us that there was still something under his calloused hide, but... HE proved that to me, much stronger than any image, stronger than any force that could move a mountain... I wanted my cub back..._

* * *

For long hours he only stared at the painting on his bedchamber wall. It was a painful action, something he'd rather avoid but could never stop. It was an addiction, one of sorts. Perhaps it was the duel grief. Perhaps it was the regrets. Either way, if hurt more than anything he'd ever felt but kept doing it because the pain kept him grounded, anchored to reality. It was a heavy pillar to lift, even heavier to pull himself from under. Many ideas would circulate through his head, rattling around and bashing his mind with the promise of possibility, then would meet one slight obstacle and tumble down in a burning heap. The cycle was beginning to make him ill. He needed some air. Gerard stood from his bed and shuffled to his door, a heavy, wooden heap that was creaking louder than usual. In fact, everything seemed amplified, found anew to his senses small things he'd never heard or just hadn't realized existed.

The stairs bore his weight though screamed as though they did otherwise. The light from the curtains was glaring, too bright, painful. It was something he wanted to greatly to mask. The colors of his home, the crimsons of the sofas, the dull grey of the stone fireplace, were all backwash, duller than ever, aged as he was but more so now than ever. The portraits were frowning... frowning deeply behind the false masks of contempt. They were talking, too. The paint was talking... the mirrors were singing... the sun was laughing... the moon was crying... The room was spinning. Gerard was sick of it... ill from all his lovingly lavished life. He wanted out before it killed him. He broke the threshold of his door frame, stepping into the drab streets and looking upon face upon expressionless face. There was, of course, the occasional joyful grin, those which he resented with an inward growl. He hated doing so, his inner conscience exclaiming the lack of fairness in his recent hatred of all things happy. His own discord was no fur off their hides. Still, he made a note to nip any joy in the bud.

He turned off onto the walk-way, pushing past other residents with little care to the back-glances he was getting. He just walked... walked pointlessly, aimlessly, letting his body guide itself. He was absorbed in his own thoughts... thoughts of dis-contempt, sorrow, bleakness and pain. Words became nothing, muffled noise at the corners of his consciousness, things he'd rather drown out than listen to... even if they were aimed at him. Then... his legs stopped, refusing to move any further, smelted onto the walk-way. He turned his head ever slightly, glaring blankly at the wrought iron gate that loomed shallowly. Behind it was an all too familiar door, a rich red-wood, lovingly carved and cared for... He made that door himself... Just for his cub. The handle was a tempered iron, dark and fitting to the front of the home, made from dark stone, the copper roof darker than most, weathered to perfection. The house itself was one of the oldest on Ursius, but, with care, had become fitting. Unconsciously, he stepped through the gate, pushing into the home with little effort. The walls were dark, a very lovely burgundy, paw-painted. The molding was red-wood akin to the door and flooring. All the furniture had been tarped over post Freddy's absence by his friends, a kind gesture to keep it all roughly preserved for his prayed return. Gerard had his doubts, however. It was all doubt, at that point.

All of the opulent curtains was pulled shut, tightly drawn as to stave the home from light. That was a gesture of an entirely different breed. This was usually done after the home-owner's death. It was a matter of mixed beliefs, some thinking the Ursian dead, others in full faith of his survival. Faith had left him long ago. He traversed another flight of stairs, turning right and pushing into a darkened chamber, bed still made from the last time Freddy left the house. The bottles had been cleaned out and the room swept, not by the cub, of course. Freddy was never the cleanest, being a young male, after all. The very feel of the space made Gerard feel ill again. He slowly lowered himself onto the side of the bed. The quilt, made by Gaia, was soft and smelled of him... his alcohol, his cologne, his own natural scent, something Gerard craved more day after day, week after week. He just wanted to burry his snout in it, take it all in... try to find some remnants of him in there, somewhere... no matter the distance. In was intoxicating in the worst way...

Gerard's grey eyes slowly drifted to the night-stand. An oil lamp rested haphazardly alongside a little music box, something given to the cub from Gaia's will. When Freddy was young, she'd play it and sing along with the prettiest lullaby, something he himself had always taken for granted. It was so normal, so common place... gone forever. They both were... He pulled out a drawer towards the bottom of the night-stand, pushing up some small books before grasping the curved handle of an old flint-lock pistol, a family heirloom. Along side it were a flask of powder and three musket balls. He only needed one. Slid one ball down the barrel, pouring the powder down after it. He took the pipe from its holder along the barrel of the gun and gave the gun a few priming pumps before simply dropping the pipe on the floor. It fell with a light tink, so loud... so painful. The cold steel of the muzzle pressed chillingly against his lower jaw, driving a shiver through his bones. It was all so cold... save for the tears that managed to break free and run down his cheeks. His paw pad was pressed so gingerly against the trigger... then the pressure.

He stopped, however... Another soft hold enclosed around his paw and pulled the pistol away. It took what felt like centuries for Gerard to realize it was no longer in his grasp. When he did, he focused on the world around him, seeing clearly for the first time in a while... almost sober... From a dark silhouette in the door, there was a pair of rose-red eyes boring into him, a sympathetic smile across a lavender muzzle. The hare's ears slowly rotated back against his head as he lowered himself onto his hunches. "Gerard..." he began, voice cracking as though he were on the brink of crying himself. "Don't listen to any of them. They don't know what we know. Don't lose faith in him. If Freddy is anything, he's stubborn. As far as I know, nothing can kill him. If you lose faith in him... that could change... The angels will bring him home to you. Gaia is with him... She always has been, in life and in death." Bonnie's soft paws held Gerard's tenderly, stroking them so delicately. It was the kind of affection that came from someone who actually cared. Someone who wasn't just pretending with a washed-up sense of respect. "De Liefde will guide all our loved ones. She loves them with all the love we feel for them. We all love Freddy so much... She can't ignore it. Hold on... He'll be home soon."

The words were meaningless... Blank... forgotten in an instant... Not even a force strong enough to move a mountain could lift the chains from Gerard's heart as he sank into his self-made abyss...


	20. Chapter 19: All of Me

Air... He had... air... He took it in.. he took it all in with greedy gulps, sucking it down faster than the water inside his lungs could come up. It first started in caughing; violent hacking as the salty bile pooled in his throat. Then began the vomiting. His chest and wind-pipe burned as the salted liquid exhumed itself from the pit of his stomach and lungs... but he was breathing... he was alive...

"Yer a'right, laddie?" if any voice were to be heaven to his ears, Foxy's would have been the last in mind, but Freddy couldn't think of anyone he'd rather hear at the moment, among the short list of possible saviors. He turned his head and found the captain sprawled out just as he was. His chest rose and fell to a considerable degree, but was oddly ragged. His teeth clenched at every intake, ginding noticably and shrill from the tid-bits of metal inside his snout. The Ursian nodded.

"Yeah... And you... Did you...?"

"I ain't never met n'Ursian who can't swim... Ain't ye s'pose to be fishermen er somethin'?" The comment would have usually caused an uproar in Freddy's aggression, but, for now, he'd take it.

"Sure... but I never spent much time out on the water. My dad was a fisherman and many in my family are part of the Navy but I never took a liking to the water. Not even to the rain."

"Alright, two questions..." Foxy rolled onto his left side, muzzle dropped in a pant and eyes bloodshot. His crimson fur was mussed in a fashion Freddy never knew possible, but his own must have done the look no better justice. "One... Why were ye on a ship n' th'middle 'a the Ocean... n' two..." He gave a ragged caugh. "What... in the bloody five hells... was ye thinkin'... turnin' into a bloody lunatic... against a trained navel officer!" The last words were spoken in spite as the Lenan tossed a paw full of sand in the Ursian's direction. " We wouldn't be 'n this situation if'n it wasn't fer me haven' to come save yer flank!" In one moment he was asking if Freddy was okay and the next he was being scolded like a mulling cub. Now THAT, he wouldn't take. The Ursian bore his teeth, barking a demonic snarl at the other.

"First of all, stop talking down to me. I am not a cub and demand at least some respect. Two, you didn't have to come save me. I was willing to give my life up to defend you! You could show some gratitude." In that moment, Foxy's left eye widened, his right seeming lazy and swollen, even more so then in comparison. There were long moments of silence, horrible... horrible silence, something Freddy couldn't stand... not anymore than he could stand the Captain's golden eyes boring deep into his inward conciousness. So many things were portrayed in those eyes... they were so dark yet... so bright... both at a time, though seemingly impossible, yet he managed to pull it off. Freddy had once been told, as a cub, that the eyes were the gateways into the soul. Which part of Foxy's eyes were his soul, however... he couldn't decide. So many parts of himself wanted to say it was the everpresent darkness, but he knew that wasn't fair... He hadn't known him long enough.

He stopped staring, though... brows furrowing deeply. "Well some good that did, aye? Now we're both dead." He pushed up off of the beach with his now bare stump and remaining paw, kicking out a little before finding his balance. He walked some ways out of Freddy's view before the Ursian was dane to follow with his eyes. Behind him was the Gods-forsaken island of Zeeptin. It was barren, void of anything beyond the rock wall which crowned its bay. Beyond that... it was only a thin sliver of sand and salt water streams. Foxy was only a miniscule dot on the landscape... soon to be part of the land itself. There was no way to survive on Zeeptin... no fresh water, no fruit boring plants, no living creatures besides them two of them.

"Why?" He tried to call out to the Lenan. There was no faulter in his movments to suggest he even cared to agknowledge that the other had spoken. "Why did you help me when you knew I was going to end up dead anyway?" Still no response. "Was there something special about me? Was it pitty?" Silence... "Or are you finally feeling guilty for killing all those innocent people?" Foxy's spine went ridged. Freddy was unsure as to the degree of his reaction.

"Guilty...?" He stopped dead, turning his ears, only his ears, towards the other. "Ye thinks I has guilt n' me heart for the lives of some snobbin', fishermen blokes? Some... measly little upper-class trash?" He was strutting back towards the Ursian at twice the speed he'd walked away from him. It took him mere moments to reach Freddy who had haphazardly gotten himself upright. "There ain't one shard'a regret n' me. If ye thinks I care AT ALL about you, about yer father, about all the families of the people I killed then yer sadly mistaken! Ye's spent weeks in me crew and ye has yet realize that all regret, all mercy, all kindness leaves ye when ye becomes a pirate. Murder n' pilligin' n' theavin' 'r all part'a th'job, Fazbear. Ye either 'come numb tuh it er ye let it consume ye. I feels nothin'."

The Ursian's ears swerved back against his head. "Then why do I feel that you're the ladder?" For the first time... ever... The fire in that Fox's eyes... extinguished... His left, again, grew with that thousand yard stare, the right seemingly useless at that point. His jaw snapped over and over as though he were trying to create words, form some retort, but fell short every time. His face would flash in a scowl, a soft plea, emotionless, then return to confusion, meloncholic, a horrible disgruntled mass of discombobulation. He didn't know what to feel. For someone who so easily seemed to express it in action, voice, or in his eyes, he was, for once, unreadable, totally locked shut in ball and chain... but a weak one...

* * *

_All this time... He'd been trying to fight it... fight the fact that he'd done wrong.. done something atrocious... worthy of death... I myself had even been fooled by his Facade, his nonchalant by-pass of all regret and care. I'd even... momentarily... forgotten why I was even on his crew to begin with. He had us all fooled... All lost in his mad spiral downward without even knowing that we were moving at all... All those long moments of silence, of confusion, passed by in such long cycles that it felt like years before the first emotion broke clean across the horizon of his amber glow..._

* * *

_I was afraid..._

* * *

_That fear was... scary in itself... Never had the emotion been so simple... so plain... so black and white... And it took his realization to make it so._

* * *

_I felt so small, reduced to a state I never even wanted to recognize was possible. All this time, all this trying and pushing for myself to be this heartless beast, this monster to be reconed with... and I had forgotten everything my father had worked for... He had a cause... he had a reason... I was a monster, yes... but that power was nothing like I'd anticipated... I was... just a kit... So ready to shine in my own limelight... that I had forgotten who I was entirely... and became someone so different..._

* * *

And he cried... Cried warm tears, more salty than the ocean, hotter than the sun, and so full of every sorrow any creature could endure... As his knees hit the sand, he made no attempt to conceil his break, cover the very thing he had faugh so hard to hide... Freddy should have felt some surprise... some... just.. something other than what he actually felt...

* * *

**_Never take love for granted... You are not entitled to its affections... you are not worthy of them... no one is... yet it grants itself upon you because that... is what love truly is... Giving when you know that you will not receive... Loving, even if you are not loved... Always act out of love... Always act of yout heart's accord... If you listen... it has much to say..._**

* * *

He dropped to his own knees before him, resting his chin atop his head and wraping his arms around him in the warmest embrace he could muster. Sure, Freddy had lost his freedom... but Foxy... had lost himself.

* * *

**Update: So, I've been updating this fanfcition quite a bit over the past few days and I've chosen to take a small break for a while. I don't want this work to suffer. This should give people some time to catch up.**


	21. Chapter 20: A Darker Cloud

_Most pain is skin deep. It is there one day and gone the next. When there is a pain, however, that is below the surface, below the core, below the heart... within the soul...It is no longer pain..._

* * *

_So many long years... He'd... toyed with me... kept me as a... a pet, putting it mildly. What had I ever done besides being born...? What reason did he have to hate me...? I was about to give him one..._

* * *

Gouden's cabin was a little more lively than usual. Gouden himself was in high spirits, a smile across his muzzle as he cleaned his prized pistol. Wandelen sat from the sofa and watched him, grey eyes looking the Ursian up and down with a slight trepidation, but greater foretaste. Every so often, the Ursian would glance up at him, smile never fading, abyssal eyes locking him in chains. He just needed a chance... one chance... There was a knock on the cabin door. In his own pace, the Admiral apt to stand and approach the door, shuffling and adjusting his long coat. Wandelen's heart was pounding, entire body shivering. He wanted this. He wanted it more than anything he'd ever desired...more than his own freedom. He leaned forward, falling to the rug with an overexadurated grunt, his shackles rolling and clanging against themselves. The thud they produced against the hollow below was satisfying. It grabbed the admiral's attention.

He turned and knocked on the door after spotting Wandelen in his moment of weakness. "One moment, please," he requested before approaching his brother, paws gingerly taking the hare by his forearms and lifting him to an upright position. It was so... tender... soft... and the look in his eyes...Concern? No. It was a facade. He was trying to make him doubt himself... Trying to keep him submissive... It was who Gouden was... Who he was bred to be; a pedigree monster; but Gouden had made a monster of his own. It was the way of monsters to destroy their makers. In one quick gesture, the metal end of his cuffs smacked into Gouden's left temple, sending him sprawling onto the floor. Just as Wandelen had hoped, he was unconscious and Wandelen's heart was beating so fast that he feared that it would burst from his chest.

"Sir?" came the muffled sound of the crew member beyond the chamber door. Wandelen fell back down into the world of conscious thoughts and snatched Gouden's dagger from the leather belt about his waist. He then shimmied along the wall to the hinge of the right door, breathing slight. Long moments passed. "Sir, is everything alright?" Silence... The door creaked open and the wooden body pressed closed to Wandelen's shoulder. It was Gouden's first mate. The name of the Fennic eluded him for the time being, not that it mattered, however. The Naval officer found Gouden's form swiftly, kneeling at the Bear's side. His paw-pads were quick to find the veins in his Superior, sighing in relief upon finding him alive. He'd remember little else. Wandelen slammed the door back against the frame, lunging like a wild beast into the body of the Fennic. He hardly reacted to it before being smacked hard against the head with the blunt end of the dagger. Two creatures to hide... An entire ship to clear out... Or... Maybe not. Wandelen glanced back at the Pirate Galleon through the cabin window. She made decent speed for a sloop of her size. She made large ripples along the waterline, rocking the smaller skiffs along her hull who were charged with her watch.

She was a beautiful Galleon, even with her recent battle scars. She could still float and fire most of her broadside guns along with the sakers fore and aft. Her main mast could be replaced, mayhaps, if Wandelen found need of it. Question was: How would he make it to her with Gounden in tow? First, he had to stop the Lucid Dreamer... He knew how. With haste, Wandelen walked to the port-side window and pushed open the hatch. It was just large enough to fit out a barrel of Gouden's gun-powder, but not just yet. The hare snagged Gounden's long-coat, pulling it from his brother with care. The coat was tied about the barrel with some sturdy twine. Finally, he hoisted it out of the port-whole and into the salty breakers below. Then, with the loudest, most urgent call he could muster, he bellowed, "Admiral Overboard!" The clamor began at once, boots scuffling to peer over the side of the ship. Voice called into the late evening air and Wandelen felt rather proud. Most of this had been off the cuff, after all.

Soon enough, the Lucid Dreamer began to slow, as did the pirate galleon aft. The ships around her reeled her in, forming a circle about the floating barrel and deploying longboats into the water as means to retrieve it. It was now or never. With every fiber of his strength, Wandelen threw Gounden over his shoulders military style and pushed his muzzle out into the deck. Every visible crew member was oblivious to him. If anyone else was watching, he didn't know, but he'd have to take the chance. They wouldn't be fooled for long. Quickly but quietly, he scuttled to the longboats along the starboard side. With ease, he lowered Gouden into one of the boats and then himself with the tow-lines gripped tightly in his paws. Slowly, he gave the lines some slack, but not too much. The pullies protested the strained angle, but kept up. He continued the pace, letting some rope slide, then stopping it with a tight grip. Gradually, he began to lose view of the deck, but his arms screamed, unable to spread in a proper way to hold the lines due to the shackles. He was, at the very least, thankful for their generous length, but honestly needed longer, especially when the boat was to reach closer to the water's surface.

His muscles screamed for release, but being only half-way repelled down the ship's hull, he could not grant it. It became harder and harder to control the amount of slack he allowed the lines, his paws becoming numb and impossible to maneuver. Promptly, the pads of his right paw refused to grip and the right line was given far more slack than the left, leaving the boat with a painful slant. Wandelen couldn't continue holding onto both lines, his arms unable to reach in their current state. He had to loosen his hold on the left line. When he did, however, the left then slacked over and tilted the boat the other way. This time, it was too much for the half-blood. He dropped both lines and was left in a moment of almost free-fall as they both gave way. The skiff hit the water with a thrash, slamming into the hull of Lucid Dreamer, then back against the surface. Wandelen wasn't about to wait and find out if he was heard. He grabbed the tips of the blunt ends of the paddles and rowed with as much might as he could.

He broke the aft of Lucid Dreamer within moments just to see the boats reaching their target. He needed to hurry. The pirate galleon was not too much farther. He overtook the breakers with adept speed, his shackles slowing him little. His blood was running cold and body shaking from every new found strain, but he pushed himself harder to cope, making his every muscle numb to the fire. His strokes became sloppy and slower, but he never stopped. He couldn't. It was like his body was on its down, sentient without him, of a second mind, rather. "This isn't the Admiral." The stoic bark announced as a hound lifted the navy long-coat from the water. Wandelen's body came crashing back to him, fear sending every nerve on a wire.. But the skiff bumped softly against the hull of the Pirate galleon, which Wandelen groped at wildly with him claws. He guided the skiff towards the aft anchor bay and stopped at the bilge port. Every fiber of his being hoped the compartment would be void of filth. Gouden's unconscious form was hoisted through, first, care taken to ensure it hit the bilge floor with little to no sound. A dull thud assured that it was both empty enough and that the Ursian was inside safely. Next went Wandelen. He wriggled through the port-hole and closed it fast behind him. There was, in fact, come bilge water there, but very little as the trap must have been recently emptied. With the little strength he had left, Wandelen threw Gouden over his shoulders once more, and climbed the wooden stock onto the lower deck... The brig...

The compartment was twice, almost three times the size of Wandelen's former cell. Within this hold were three rows of twelve, maybe thirteen five foot by five foot cast-iron cells and almost all of them were in use. Wandelen stowed Gouden's limp form in a stack of crates under the stairs before scuttling to a near cell on the right-paw side. Inside it was a Lenan female, a Vixen to be precise. She was terribly thin, but had a decent amount of muscle in her upper thighs, a trained look-out. Her hide was muddled with deep, pink scars all along her chest and muzzle. Her arms were equally mangled, but otherwise, she'd be a prim rose. "Hello," Wandelen whispered. She didn't divert her gaze to him, only keeping her green orbs fixed on the paws in her lap. Wandelen gripped the iron of the cell door. "Éisteacht bhean uasail. Le do thoil." Her snow ears twitched back.

"I speak Ursian, love. What'cha want?"

"I want to know if you're part of this ship's original crew. Are you, miss? Which of you are?" The vixen tilted her head sullenly to look in his direction.

"We all are, love. Prisoner's 'n our own home. Who're you then, lad?"

"I was a prisoner on board the ship that imprisoned you. Where is your captain?"

Her ears swerved flat against the back of her head. A thick layer of moister began to build on her lower lids. "Oh, de liefde a thabhairt dom neart, " she prayed, wringing her frail-looking paws. "My deartháir. My kin... He has died by th'paws a' the Ursian Admiral. He's lost to the sea."

"Tá brón orm. I am sure he was very honorable. Who is the second in command?"

"That be Mister Schmidt, his first mate. He's over thar, lad. Middle row, sixth cell down. Speed, Gypsie. The watch be keen here." Wandelen gave a sympathetic smile.

"Go raibh maith agat, Madam. I will see to it that your loss is softened, Vriendelijkheid willing." With haste, he scuttled along the line of cells before reaching the one specified. Fittingly, the Shepherd inside was decorated in a long-coat and holding his matching cap. A creature of rank, for sure. "Are you Mister Schmitd? The first mate?" There was slight acknowledgement of Wandelen's words, but the vocal response was all hostile.

"What more do you bastards want?" he barked, much too loud for Wandelen's taste.

"Hush, please, Mister Schmidt. I am not of the Ursian crew. You'll get me thrown in binds, the same as you." His ears rotated with his head, looking the hare dead in the muzzle. His expression was some mixture of depression and question. "I was a prisoner on the Ursians and am in need of help; your help. I have taken their Admiral hostage, which I can prove to you, but we need to hurry. It won't be long until he wakes up and finds himself here and much harder to subdue. I have been told of your Captain's death and find that our interests are aligned. You want to avenge him, do you not? I want to make the Admiral pay for the things he's done to me. We can both have what we want: Justice. Do you agree?" The shepherd offered a slight twitch of his ear.

"It's hard not to, but... how did you...?"

"I need to get you out of this cell now. We need some place to put him until later. Please, Mister Schmidt."

"Alright, alright. I'll get the crew to help you, but under one condition: When this is all said and done, I get to drive the knife through his maelstrom of a heart." The hare took a moment to consider it. He had wanted to kill Gouden when he was done with the beast, but that wasn't exactly his main goal. Suffering and death were on opposite sides, it seemed. If allowing the Shepherd the luxury of either doing or thinking he would do it gave Wandelen the means of reaching his own goals, then he was dane to give him that.

"I shall provide the knife. Now, come. Who has the keys?" The question was given a scoff.

"None needed. The last Prisoner in this cell broke the lock. I can get out any time I feel like." The hare tilted his head.

"Then why haven't you already?"

"I didn't feel like it. We are all in mourning. Our Captain was young and ambitious, even as a pirate. He was also a friend. He is what most of this crew faught for, either he or his father. Now, as you said, we must hurry. Has he been on board this entire time?"

"No, but I'll explain in time, Get out of the cell and when I put him in, we'll have to bind him. If you can get my clasps off, they shall suffice." the Shepherd slid out of the cell, leaving its door slightly ajar as he fallowed Wandelen under the stairs. The hare began to pull the Ursian out from the stack of boxes, but the adrenaline was already fading, giving heat to the soreness of his malnourished form.

"Here, allow me. You look ill." Mike grasped at the Ursian's shoulders and hooked his arms under his. He put all his strength into leaning back and back-pedaling quickly to his former cell. Wandelen held the door open and allowed the dog to prop Gouden's body up on the back side of the iron-bars. "Alright. I'll take off your binds. Come here." From a small slit in his coat's seams, the Shepherd grasped a small pick and nail. The items were inserted into the key slots of each shackle and twisted in a fluent yet jagged manner. Within a short supply of moments, the clasps opened and were caught swiftly before they fell to the floor. Without hesitation, Mike took the shackles and clasped one to Gouden's right paw, The other was fed through the bars and brought back in to be clasped to his left. After that, he stepped from the cell and closed the door with a sullen graveness upon his face, though its cause was never voiced. "Now, let us free the rest and take back my lady." As he walked down the row of cells, Wandelen noted the determination in Schmidt's voice. It was solid, stone and just. He was, inwardly, willing to do anything to grant his friend justice. The crew would be too, fallowing the example. How willing would he be, though, when Wandelen's own plan came into fruition?

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_AN~ I am so sorry for the wait on this chapter. I've been answering prompts and taking a general break from it. I wanted a REALLY good chapter and have re-written this particular one more times than I can count in the past few days, but I'm finally okay with the product. I hope this was worth the wait and I hope you enjoy. Cheers. _


	22. Chapter 21: Hell Hath no fury

Freddy had been staring at the rocks on the horizon for many hours now, many more the previous day. He'd walk the shoreline for long periods of time, observing with peaked interest at them and the water flow. He noted how the breakers moved, sucking in and bursting out between the gaps in the stone, some large and others small, minuscule. Today, Foxy came and sat next to him, long-coat tossed aside and used as a cot for hard nights. He was only in a worn pair of brown trousers, all of his upper body exposed. Two days had passed since their brush with death and, once dried, they found that Foxy had, in fact, sustained some deep wounds. His chest and stomach was riddled with them, all deep and raw pink. His right eye was also very swollen and had gotten worse over time. Now, it seemed to be going down, but the white in it stayed the same shade of sick rose. Foxy had even said that is was extremely out of focus, making his vision nauseating if he stared at one thing for two long. "Maybe you can cover it," Freddy had told him. "The other eye is fine and should be able to work right if the other isn't messing it up." Foxy said he'd try it next time he got the chance.

"What 'ave ye been lookin' at fer the last little while, laddy?" Foxy asked, breaking the silence. He looked at Freddy with his left eye, the right closed lazily, still slightly swollen. Freddy took a deep breath and look onward, determination plain on his muzzle.

"A way off this island."

Foxy scoffed. "I told ye, lad. Thar ain't no way off this island. We might 'swell jus' lay back and n'joy our last little while. I'm dehydrated, me friend. I ain't lastin' but 'nother day."

"Foxy, I am not dying here. YOU'RE not dying here. We have out entire lives ahead of us and, by the Gods, we are going to live them and not just live them. I want to cherish every second of my life and live it as though I'd be dead by tomorrow. And, if I might actually die tomorrow, I am willing to try anything. You should be, too." Foxy shook his head, sympathy and amusement playing paw-in-paw across his muzzle. "I've been watching the tides, counting the days since the last high one. One high tide, there is a considerable amount of leeway on the outflow that could fit a small dingy. If we can wrestle something up out of the wood that washes up here, we could make it out tomorrow, when the next tide comes in."

"Say we manage that. Say we get out from the ring'a death. What then? Thar ain't nothin' outside thar but open ocean." Freddy clenched his paws.

"We pray. There's isn't really much else. It's better than sitting here, waiting on a forsaken island to die. Whatever you say, I don't care. I'm, at the very least, trying, with or without you." He stood, brushed off his navy trousers, and walked down along the shore. Every so often he'd find a shard of wood, but it would either be water logged beyond salvage or entirely too small. Still, he pressed on, looking vigorously for anything usable. None of it was.

After near hours of pointless roaming, the Ursian threw up his paws in frustration and flopped down on the beach, crystal eyes watching as the sun began to dip down below the horizon. His idea was to the wind. Unless they got off that island the very next day and got some water, they'd die. "Lad..." the voice was warmer than Freddy remembered, but perhaps that was due to listening to himself talk to for so long. Foxy stood over him, muzzle churned in a half-hearted grin. "Come wit' me, lad. Imma show ye somethin'." He waved his left paw, silently ordering Freddy to follow, which he did at his own defeated way. They walked inland some ways, not too far, and stopped on what looked like an empty patch of sand. Freddy looked at him, eyes fallowing every twitch in his expression. Foxy stared for but a moment before kneeling down and digging up the sand. It didn't take very long for him to stop. His claws scratched at a buried slab of wood, looking to be curved downward into the dirt. It was old, by the looks of it, but well kept. "Found this while ye was trampin' off. I think it be a lil' row boat buried here. Help me dig it up an' we'll see, aye?" Freddy shrugged and bent down to cut away at the sand. It was worth a shot.

They dug for quite a while, the item being submerged some ways down. It was heavy, too, and possibly filled with dirt and holes. That was fixable, maybe. If the entire boat was still there, or at least most of it. All the small shards of wood that washed up would do nicely for that. Still, the entire time they dug, Freddy's eyes watched Foxy silently. His movements were rough, edgy, but certainly stronger, even with his one paw. His expression seemed blank, but the raise in his brows indicated light-heartedness. He was, inwardly, happy or, at least in a slightly better mood than usual. This, in turn, gave the Ursian a warm feeling in his chest and reinvigorated his aching muscles. Sure, he himself was sore from his previous battle with the Zeeptin barrier, but that was nothing compared to the cold whisk of death. In spite of the release it promised, Freddy was not apt to sit and die. He wanted to live first. He was sure that Foxy felt the same, though he'd surely be more accepting of his fate, being a pirate captain and knowing the risks. It was in his disposition as well. He was naturally a calm, collected creature, that which happened with Layton only proved such. He was able to keep calm in front of his crew after losing an appendage. THAT took control... or a very stubborn wall. Freddy had noticed that, too. Foxy seemed to build emotional barriers so that none could honestly tell what he was feeling unless they were adept at studying posture, position, pitch, or another's eyes. Freddy had a moderate understanding of eye-reading. His mother had showed him enough. Foxy's barriers were strong, but they chipped away the more he kept them held. The break he had that first day on Zeeptin only proved such.

Freddy stopped his thinking when he claws scraped along the belly of the boat, finding that he had unconsciously finished his digging. Foxy was slightly behind, but caught up soon enough. They stopped once he'd done so and stared at what they had uncovered. It was the full outline of a longboat, study in construction, though with its few holes and instabilities. The Ursian dug his claws under the rim of his side and allowed Foxy the time to do the same on his own. "On three, alright?" The Lenan nodded. "One. Two. Three!" They heaved with all their strength and managed to free the object on their first pull. Foxy stumbled slightly, but managed to right himself and look past the righted skiff to smile at the other. At this point, the sun was just about set and the vibrant rays burst through the holes in the wood. "She's dinged up, but she'll get us through those rocks if we patch the holes in her floor. We need something to secure some wood in them." Foxy shook his head.

"Nay, lad. That won't work. We still has some twine left over and we has me coat. I'll handle the patchin'. You go build'a fire." He jerked his head back to where they had camped the night before. Freddy nodded and helped the Lenan drag the boat along with them. This was going to work. It had to.

* * *

The salt water was cold on his paws and his arms ached from the weight of the boat. Around it was fastened two lines in rather uncomfortable places, but with the tacks they'd salvaged, they managed to secure the remains of Foxy's coat to the bottom of the boat. They tested it in the water early that morning and found it buoyant enough. It wasn't the boat that concerned them. They looked onward at the foreboding wall of jagged teeth that protected the island. No one got in and came back out. No one... If this worked, Foxy would indeed make history, just not in the way he had anticipated. No one planned to be stranded on the most uninhabitable islands in the world, after all. Still, they were going to do everything they could to get out of there. Freddy was going home. They heaved into the water, shoving into the side and settling into the seats of the boat. Foxy sat at the front end of it, but faced Freddy, not wanting to look at the danger that loomed over them. He only stared at Freddy. Inwardly, he was trying to convince himself that everything was alright. He tried to convince himself that he could trust the Ursian before him. His eye screamed worry, outwardly. Freddy saw it and tried not to reflect it. He had other things to focus on. With a paddle he'd fashioned out of a stick, a weathered plank, and the rest of the twine, he alternated from one side to the other, pushing them out towards the rock-burdened edge of the bay. The high tide sucked out and forced back in rapidly, causing a deep down-draw. He couldn't be too quick, nor too slow. Too quick and he'd reach the point early and either be shoved back or sucked under. To late and the same results might ensue. He had to be perfect.

Foxy's arms coiled around him as he watched the shorter rocks pass their boat from underneath. Any that just lightly scraped the hull made him spine shiver. Each clunk, each scratch, each agonizing churn of the water was absolute torture. They neared the opening that Freddy had selected. It was wide enough to allow their boat very snugly, but the current it produced was deadly on many fronts. They drew closer just as a wave burst inward. It grasped out at them and licked the back of Foxy's neck. He went ridged. "We be too early, mate!" he barked.

"It's okay! It's Okay! I can slow us down!" Freddy jammed the paddle into a crook between two rocks, but the sideways lever forced their boat to go sideways into the current as it blew inward once more. It rocked them back out, then, too far from any of the smaller joints, sucked them in and slammed them into the rock-face with more force than a cannon. A chunk of the hull broke away and waves splashed over their heads. The front of the boat dipped dangerously below the water, gushing the salted burst onto their paws before drawing out and leveling. They scraped by the opening before being slammed into another joint of smaller rocks. It flipped them almost over before another set slammed them back. Foxy's jaws snapped and gasped, him obviously saying something, but his voice was drowned out by the rushing current. A large over-spill from another rock-faced dowsed their heads and blinded them before they could see the second face. They hit it only slightly slower than the last, but it caused another chunk of the boat to blast away and more water to claw at them. The salt stung their eyes and slapped their hides raw. They brushed past the second face and rolled violently, again close to the rabid foam of the water. Freddy braced and tilted the other way, causing the boat to slam back down level, but it rolled again in the direction he was tilting, shoving it over. They it the water with a dull smack, having only a second's hesitation. Freddy shoved the boat back upwards and clung fast to it as it flipped back level. Without hesitation, he clawed his way back on board and took a deep breath. The same was heard across from him, so he opened his eyes... Foxy stared back at him, both eyes as open as he could get them. For a few minutes... all was still...

'_Still..._' Freddy repeated the word in his head, unable to make it click against the washed up match of his brain. '_Still... Still... It is still..._' Behind Foxy was a bloomed backdrop of nothing but glittering, open water... A grin slowly worked its way onto Foxy before the Lenan let out a howl that they were sure the Gods could hear. "YE BLOODY BASTARD, WE DID IT! WE SURVIVED! ME DEHYDRATION AND STARVIN' BE DAMNED, WE LIVED! DE LIEFDE BLESS US TODAY! HAHA!" He jumped forward and wrapped his arms around Freddy's neck in a tight embrace. The sudden constriction awoke the Ursian from his daze, making him hug back equally tight. "Oh, ye genius, I could kiss ya! But..." his ears lowered and he released the Ursian, looking around with a sudden sullenness. "What now?" Freddy smiled sheepishly.

"We hope... We pray... We wait. What more?" He held out a paw and sighed. Foxy looked at it as though it were from another world entirely, but finally took it, clasping it tightly. "May the Gods hear us... We pray for a chance... A chance at freedom, of redemption... of homes far away where we'll be safe and loved..."

"Some place war we be, in ourselves, welcome n' livin'..." He took a deep breath... "N' may our families be alright... May they have no worries in th' world... I pray for me sister... N' fer Frederick's father... May he be well... And may they meet 'gain..." They sat in silence for the longest time after... They stared, eyes locked endlessly, blinking being the only break from it. They didn't look away. They didn't bow. They were equal. They were together in the same and worth the same... for once in their lives... And they prayed for the same things... Safety, life, family, and love...

* * *

_We could have stared for hours into one another souls, having nothing better to do, but we wanted to. We were the only ones there. Not even the creatures of the sea were upon us. We waited... we prayed silently to ourselves. I prayed for my life, my home, my father... And I prayed for..._

* * *

_Him..._

* * *

"Ahoy!" The voice was new and shrill. It caused their ears to turn and bodies to sit bolt upright. Far to Foxy's port, there was a rather small fishing scooner making headway towards them. It was only a little ways away, close enough for them to hear the calls of the crew and smell the food that was cooking in the lower decks. How hadn't they noticed? How long had it been? "Ahoy, voyagers! What are ya'll doin' out here?" The accent was that of a Solace citizen. She who called to them was a young white bear with thick, curled fur. Her blouse was a lavished gold and trousers of ebony. A merchant, for sure, had her ship not said that about her already. Freddy smiled wide.

"We were shipwrecked," he called.

"Were you, now? You sure look it." From her place leaned over the fore, she turned back and called to the crew. "Drop anchor! We have guests!"

* * *

Ursius... She was something in the morning... The blue sky and beating sun making her glow... She was beautiful, deserving of her rank as Capitol. Perhaps he could change that... The two ships lined up aft to aft, pulling vertical into Ursius' bay. The Pirate Skiff and Navel one both stood foreboding walls against the copper-headed coast. This was the thick of her city and remained such in a clustered mass of buildings, both homes and businesses. Wandelen took a deep breath, looking across the way to the Lucid Dreamer. The White Vixen was at her helm, having assumed command of her once her crew was disposed of. The Shepherd took to the Pirate ship, named 'La Pirata Cala.' The language was old and Wandelen knew little of it, but that was besides the point. Behind him was sat a wooden chair, taken from the Captain's Cabin of the Pirate Vessel. In it was sat Gouden Duivel, chained up to his neck. His black eyes bore holes into Wandelen's skull. The Gypsy looked back at him, offering a smug grin.

"Welcome home, Gouden. I must admit, it has been so long since I've seen our lovely lady. Ursius is just as grand as I remember her. The jewel of this or any wold... A diamond among a mine of coal. Who do you blame for that? The Pirates? The Gypsies?" He leaned closed, pushing the Ursian's chair back. "Your own kin? No... They are victims... Poor souls unlucky enough to be born of the poverty that Ursians have created. They watch their own interests before conforming to the needs of others. You are the prime example. I went through your things, brother. You were not a proved to do as you have... Now, you have an army of your victims against you. The mistress Karma is cruel, isn't she? Just as she is ironic." He stepped back, giving a grand gesture to the city before them. "Have one good look, Gouden... One last glint of this Jewel..." His voice deepened, lowered to but a hiss. "... Before we burn her to the ground... Mister Schmidt!" The Shepherd looked to him, eyes deep in determination. "Open fire."


	23. Chapter 22: Lullaby

The air was thick and heavy. It smelled foul. Freddy put his snout to the wind and consumed a deep intake of air, unable to put a mental image to that which he sensed, nor could he see into Ursius' port. She was entirely consumed by fog. "So," came Foxy as he sauntered on deck, a bandage wrapped about his right eye. He leaned over the rail and looked Freddy dead in the face. "Ye really thinks he's here?"

Freddy nodded, not entirely there. "Yes. He was an Ursian Naval captain. He had to come home at some point. Now, Foxy, your nose is better than mine. Tell me what you smell." The Lenan lifted his muzzle to the air and did as Freddy had done moments before. His brow furrowed as he took many other heavy snorts.

"Me smells... Powder... Wet gun powder 'n burnin' metal... wood... All th'like... 'n... 'n..." His eye grew wide as his paw gripped the ship's banister. "Nay... That ain't what I smell... THAT ain't what I smell!" He rushed to the Fore of the ship and leaned out over the very edge of it. His ears turned and jerked as he tried to listen and smell more in an attempt to confirm what it was.

"What is it?" asked Freddy as he joined Foxy.

"When... When I was a lil' kit... Thar was a plague that broke out on Lenaus... We went'a many lengths to stop it from spreadin'... One'a which was pilin' up all th'bodies in th'town square 'n..."

"Burning them... You smell...?"

"Aye... I could never forget-" There was a thunderous roar from deep within the belly of the fog, rushing them like a blood-lusted monster. To the fore and aft of the merchant ship, two splashes bore salted water onto the deck and shook the vessel in unnnerving surf. "Mortar! Heavy Mortar!" The crew went into a made scramble, dropping anchors at the fore and aft before hauling the sails and ducking below deck. Considering that the massive rounds had missed, they're bet was to not move another muscle and let the sender think them dead. Foxy knew better. The mortar wasn't meant to sink them. It was meant to keep perimeter. By the angle and speed of the shot, the sender was stationary and VERY close. "That be a Man-a-War, lad," Foxy hissed, ducking down below the banister. "I dun understand... Burnin' flesh, mortar perimeter, Man-A-War class sloops... Is Ursius under attack? Is this how she keeps safe?"

Freddy shook his head. "No. Her Man-A-Wars are restricted to open-ocean interest defense."

"Then what'n the bloody hell 'r they doin' here?"

"I don't know." Another ring of massive surf bombarded the vessel, rolling it violently before it became steady. "... But we need to find out." Freddy lunged for one of the two long boats aboard the ship, taking on tow-line and motioning for Foxy to take the other. They heaved the boat over the banister and settled down inside it, beginning their decent into the fog-bore abyss below.

"Ye sure this's a good idea?" asked Foxy, struggling some with the line. Freddy shook his head, but muzzle remained stern.

"No, but, if we're lucky, the fog will mask us. Now, we need to be quiet." They touched the surface of the water, grabbing the ores and shoving off, making their rowing slight and breathing slighter. The fog, or rather smoke as it wasn't fog at all, clouded them, sticking deep into their nostrils and fur, yet they bore it and made way towards the source of the Mortar. Finding it wasn't a hard task. They broke the line of smoke by bumping the hull of a massive sloop, but not just any sloop. This one was very familiar.

"La Pirata Cala? Me ship? What'n the five hells be goin' on?" He pressed his left paw to the aged wood of her hull and breathed a heavy, smoke burdened sigh. Looking to his right, he could vaguely make out the aft of another ship of the same class, but painted in Ursian blue in deep contrast to La Pirata Cala's red. "Thar be two of 'em. Two Galleons. I'll bet me best sabers that she be th'beast that tore me ship. Come on, lad. Let's take a peek on deck'n see what be rubbin' the bastards so raw." Foxy lead the boat along her hull until reaching the built-in ladder upon her body. With Freddy holding the small-skiff steady, Foxy latched onto the ladder and began to climb. Freddy followed suit. Foxy's ears laid back against his skull, nose poking onto the deck and single working eye looking it over with something akin to shock. Freddy could only observe his movements, unable to see past him onto the deck. Within moments, Foxy ducked down, turning towards Freddy with a wide eye. "It's... me crew... They be doin' this... But... That's not all..." His silence fell like a rock, leaving Freddy with a swelling pit deep inside.

"What is it? Spit it out." Foxy Shimmied along the banister before coming to rest on a closed cannon port, alloing Freddy to climb the ladder and over-look the top-deck. He peered about the wooden surface, eyes following the frantic movements of the crew, crew he'd known and worked with. They were brandishing guns, loading Mortar, firing rounds off into the distant...the distant... city... Ursius... Freddy's crystal eyes grew wider still, ears swiveling back against his head. His jaw fell open, allowing a shallow, sharp breath to escape his constricted throat. The city was burning... Plumes of flame rose above the hilly streets of the great city, torching the walk-ways, the homes, the stores and turning them into one ash-boring husk. Citizens were frantic, their screams burning Freddy's ears with this shrillness, their suffering. Any who were unlucky enough to end up in the harbor were bombarded with both cannon fire and muskets, their limp, destroyed forms crashing to the streets with little hope for survival.

This... was his home... His people... Burning, suffering, dying... Watching as their peace and quiet was devastated by the sharp knife of cruelty... "No..." The single word, the one syllable, held the wight of a cannon-ball as it dropped into the riddled air... Everything fell quiet... He couldn't hear the fire, the screams, the musket fire... He couldn't smell the burning stone, wood, or flesh... He could only hear his ear, thudding and thudding as it fell into an abyss... He only saw the flames... The sun-set hue of the fire... The black, putrid smoke... He could feel its heat... and yet, he was so cold... There was something else there, too... A soft pressure on his left fore arm. A silhouette came into view, a lean but strong figure pushed passed him and stood tall on the deck. It's appearance tore him down, yanked him back into the realm of reality. A thick tail swished from hip-to-hip, and single paw was clenched into a fist. Slowly, the sounds returned... one-by-one. First, the creaking of the ship... then the muskets... the cannon fire... Then the roar of the inferno... then the screams. Foxy's voice out-roared them all as his heavy, rage-riddle bark, tore the deck into silence... REAL silence...

"Mister Schmidt!" dozens of pairs of eyes befell him, stared at him as though he were a ghost in the flesh... perhaps, to them, he was. The shepherd's eyes were equally wide, brown hue locking tight upon the image of his captain. His paws released the banister of the wheel deck and his paws shook and buckled as he traversed the steps to meet him mid-deck. His entire body was stiff and limp all at once. By the time the were close enough, Freddy was behind Foxy, mind still trying to register what was happening.

"Captain... We... We thought you dead..." His voice was tainted with shakes and uneasy, a sort of sickness in it. "We saw you... hit the rocks in Zeeptin..." Foxy's expression never left a state of pure fire.

"Aye... We did... and We lived... N' now, here I be, lookin' 'bout be crew fer th'first time in days, simply t'find them doin' this! What n' the five hells is ye doin'! These are innocent civilians who had nothin' t'do wit' what happened t'me!"

"Captain, we didn't chose this. It was this... this prisoner from the Ursian crew, he-" His voice was shattered, cut strait at the end as a steel blade was driven through his body. Just as quickly as it did, the metal was drawn out, allowing a thick burst of blood to draw from his wound.

"Michael!" Foxy lurched at him, taking the Shepherd by his shoulders and easing him down to the deck. A fatty pool of blood seeped out from his stomach, but he was limp... Lifeless as a stone... Foxy's eye darted up, looking forth to meet the maw of Schmidt's killer. It was a hare, a rather burly one, body cloaked in scars and paws holding fast to a pair of sabers with golden handles and red-cloth grips. His grey eyes bore deep into Foxy's amber one, a wicked grin across his mangled muzzle.

"I am truly sorry about that, Captain," he cooed, voice sickly sympathetic. "Rebellion is a messy business and the seeds of doubt must be up-rooted before they grow. You, of all creatures, should understand this. Look around you, Lenan. This is the start of a new era, a new chapter in history, where the Corrupted grip of the Ursian crown will no longer hold onto the rest of the world, keep it from growing in prosperity. Lenaus, your home, is the greatest example. Ursius broke ties with it not too long ago, leaving the island to rot, crumble under its own weight. I'm done being below them. The rest of the world would agree."

"So this is yer answer? Killin' innocent people? Families? Children? Destroyin' an entire island is no way t'fix social injustice!" The hare pointed the tip of the blade at Foxy's snout.

"So, you, a pirate, a murderer, a pirate wanted for hanus crimes against these people, yet you're against the thought of destroying them and freeing yourself from the vice of law? A pirate is telling me what is wrong and what is right!" The saber was pressed lightly against his nose. "You have no say in this besaides that which reliquishes the command of this ship and sees you stepping down from command... For all to see..." His voice was low and stance stiff. He offered the other saber to the Lenan. Foxy reached for it, but stopped when a larger paw took hold of the handle and another forced him back. Freddy stepped forward, looking the hare dead in the eyes. "And what are YOU doing?" Freddy snorted, scowl growing deeper the longer he stared at the creature.

"Fighting for my Captain. He's been through everything the five hells could throw at him. He's hurt and tired and I hardly think it a fair fight if you were to battle him. You say you have a grudge against Ursians? This shouldn't be a problem. I don't much like you, either." Foxy grabbed the Ursian's shoulder and gripped it in a tight vice.

"Lad, what're ye doin'?" he asked, grinding his jaws.

"If my friends and father are dead because of him, I want to be the one to avenge them. You, of all people, would understand." Foxy only nodded, gripping the Ursian's paw before stepping away. The hare tilted his head, a crooked grin spreading across his muzzle. There was no warning before the stepped forward and slashed. The tip of the blade cut through his fur, leaving a thin line of blood. Freddy stumbled back, taking but a moment of hesitation before the creature lunged again, spinning with a swift slash that barely missed the Ursian's snout. He swung again in quick succession, forcing Freddy to backstep, each time pushing him closer and closer to the fore end of the ship. The Hare kept coming and Freddy kept backing up. It wasn't good. The steel gave a bright glints under the spectral flames given off from Ursius, reflecting the epiphany of pain and suffering into his eyes. The very same fire bore out from those grey eyes, bent on combusting him in his place. In spite of that, though... Freddy stared, not at his blade, but at him...His every scar... Something inside him tore from itself and made him... wonder... How much pain... had this creature endured... to make him cause this much desolation...? Freddy tried to push the thoughts from his mind, telling himself internally that this creature was no more a victim than... No... He had to do this... He had to end it... now...

The Ursian stepped forward, ducking under a low slash from the Hare's blade before delivering a whip of his own. The steel cut across his opponent's body, a trail of sanguine in its wake. The creature stepped back, finding his stance quickly before coming at him again, arms buckling from his wind frenzy of attacks. Freddy managed to back step again before lunging forward and delivering another decisive blow in a criss-cross over the hare's chest. More blood pooled out onto his filth-ridden hide, but he only ground his jaws and came at him again. The attacks were relentless and, as time dragged on, more desperate... he was giving it everything he had, not caring if it was sloppy or ineffective... he was letting everything... all his rage... all his hatred... out...

With one quick side slash, Freddy was knocked back against the fore. He tried to bring up his sword to prevent his own destruction, but the hare knocked it away, cutting across Freddy's knuckles in the process. Blood poured from the wound which Freddy nursed with a hiss and a lightly clenched paw. They both breathed heavily into the humid, smoke-filled air. He, shaking wildly, rose his blade back over his shoulder, eyes boring with the fires of the five hells... it thrusted forward, slicing through fur, though skin, through bone... A mangled cry escaped Freddy's locked jaws and the blade cut deeper and deeper into him... His shoulder burned, gushing blood and crackling agonizingly... The blade was pulled out, then driven back into his left shoulder, another splay of blood pouring out over the blade... The hare pulled it out once more, holding the blade high under his arm; his jaws bore and eyes aflame... then... he froze... a jagged, sharp gasp shooting from his muzzle... Dug into his left side... was a dagger... Freddy's paw holding fast to the handle... Twice as much blood gushed from the wound as there was from Freddy's... The sword fell limply from the creature's paw... Eyes, in an instant, loosing their burning glow... As his form began to slump over... his eyes portrayed something Freddy had only seen once before... Pure pain... not physical... nothing that the world itself could create... a pain so deep... so intense... In that moment he fully understood... Pain... makes you do things you never knew you could do...

The hare hit the deck, body clenching and gripping at the wound... His eyes growing wider and darker with each passing moment. Grudgingly, Freddy stood, approaching him with his sword now in paw. He closed his crystal eyes, clutching hard to the handle... "I'm sorry, De Liefde," he said sincerely, "Sometimes... love isn't possible..." He drove the blade through the creatures chest and held it until the rapid thump against the sword stopped beating...

"Lad...?" Foxy's calm voice, shaken and somewhat relieved, inquired, running a gentle paw over the Ursian's shoulder. Freddy only sighed, turning and looking upon the shore...

* * *

Everything was decimated, but he paid no heed... nor did he to the agony in his shoulder or the aching in his legs. He ran. He ran as fast as he could, with all the strength he could muster. He didn't wonder if his father had made it home... He didn't wonder if his father was angry with him... he didn't wonder if his father was alive... He knew he was... He knew... There was no amount of devastation or fire that would make him believe otherwise... The fire, the smoke, the evening blow from the moon, they all blurred together in a haze against the corners of his eyes. Each toppled building was simply a mass... nothing... He saw only one thing... His home... the hickory front door, the worn, old grey brick, the smokey glass of their windows... Beyond the smoke, he swore he could smell Ursian Orchids... his mother's favorite... blooming and glowing in their azure kaleidoscope... He swore he could hear his father silky voice... see his aging smile... feel his warm fur and gentle heart beat... it was all there... past the broken streets, toppled lamps, gods-forsaken anarchy...past the gaping hole the door-frame... It was cold... and dark inside... the fireplace dormant and lamps unlit... or burned out, rather... The window was gone, blowing a warm summer draft through the curtains... And moonlight upon the stairs... Freddy's paws felt the softness of the carpet... the sturdiness of the floor... but... he didn't feel... the warmth... the warmth of love and life that always filled the home... He remembered playing on these floors as a cub... not a care in the world... not a qualm past where he'd misplaced his favorite toy... Now... laying at the foot of these stairs... was the crippled form of a male Ursian... Chest rising and falling... lengthily and jagged... body incomplete... as his left arm was entirely gone... Blood pooling under him...

Freddy was suspending in a moment of cold... of horrible... monstrous chills that nagged at his spine and ran their boney talons over his heart... His eyes were wet, his heart was heavy... and it fell... landing hard in a long forgotten abyss... "Dad..." His ears turned and paws shook as he knelt down before his father... The older Ursian turned his head only slowly, eyes dead... dormant... He opened his mouth, snapping his jaws slowly before managing to form words...

"So... I have... died..." the words were cold... sharp... Freddy shook his head, taking his father's remaining paw in spite of the horrendous pain in his arm.

"No... Not yet... not for a long time... I'm here... And I'm not leaving... ever again..." Gerard slowly let a soft smile spread across his features, toothy and crooked in a way Freddy hadn't seen in what felt like years...

"Frederick... I know you're not... this naive... You're a smart cub... no.. not... not a cub... you're grown now... strong and... incredible... just like her... It took me so... long to see it... See how... unjust my grief was..." He gripped the paw as tight as his body would allow... "Gaia never left us... She was... She loved this world too much... to just... leave it... She loved... you... too much..." Freddy shook his head.

"She loved you, too..."

"She loved... everything... everyone... She was passionate... she was loving... she wasn't afraid to speak her mind... She was just like you... And... if you'll allow me... one thing... Frederick... could you... could you sing me her lullaby?" There was no topping the overflow of tears that broke free from Freddy's crystal eyes... He only swallowed hard and gave a reluctant nod... He held fast to his father's paw, looking him dead in the eyes... With a deep breath, he opened his mouth and sighed.

"Storm in the bay; Clouds floating grey; Deep in my dreams; A good-bye it seems; On the Shores of Ursius..." He swallowed again, the words coming slowly and falling like rocks. Foxy, who'd been behind him, stood in the doorway, eye considerate and solemn. He listened intently and seemed to be fighting his own war. "Good-byes aren't forever; There's no such thing as never; In darkness there is light; if you follow what is right... The waters are cold; the times are growing old; but you shan't feel gloam; they'll guide you home; To the Shores of Ursius..." His chest grew tight as the grip began to weaken... to slip from his grasp. He breathed hard and let every tear pour down his cheeks. "Forever I'll stay; Through night and through day; Through pain and remorse; In soft and in course..." he pressed his head deep into his father's chest, listening intently to the dwindling beat of his heart. "... On the Shores of Ursius..."

And there was nothing more...

Hours could have passed... perhaps only moments... but he sat there... holding fast to the last spectral of love he had in his heart... The last rumble of warmth... Before they came... Ursian Galleon masters dressed in their full golden armor. They Seized both of them by the arms, snatching Foxy from the door and Freddy from his father's lifeless form... He didn't struggle... he couldn't... why should he? The Galleon Masters forced both of them to their knees, aiming primed pistols and swords. One of them stepped forward, removing his helm and glaring Foxy head in the muzzle. The Ursian was young, his fur a light Caramel and eyes a gentle blue.

"Captain Foxworth of the La Pirata Cala, you have been identified as the cause of this attack." The Statement brought Freddy from his trance. He tore his gaze from the street and bit at the remark with a vengeance.

"What? Foxy had nothing to do with this! We-" A stern smack was delivered across his muzzle with the butt end of a sword.

"I care not for any defense on his behalf. None of it matters. He's wanted on other crimes, as well. So are you. Piracy is punishable by death." It was Foxy's turn to protest, but... not for himself...

"He's my prisoner!" he blurted out. The Ursian straitened. "I kidnapped 'im 'n forced 'im to be part'a me crew... He was on a merchant vessel when me found 'im. He ain't no pirate."

"Foxy!"

"Is this true?" The blue eyes turned to him, ears forward in curiosity. Freddy swallowed.

'Well... yes, but-"

"But nothing. You need not defend this creature any longer. You're free." He backed away and gave a single motion. Foxy was taken up by his arms and snatched along as the group descended into the smoke... Freddy swore that, as they left... he saw one glint of fire... slowly extinguish... and... with a single sentence... denounced everything he ever thought he was...

"...I don't want to be free..."


	24. Chapter 23: Swept Away

He'd been there for six months... The debates rolled over and over, sometimes finding their way to his cell via gossip. HE'D be hanged for sure. It was Gouden Duivel the council and all of Ursius discussed. Foxy found some comfort that the monster was in a similar cell down the same block as he, but none in the fact that his disloyalty to the crown was, most likely, only going to get him a slap on the wrist. Ursius was a corrupt beauty... A little stained, as of late, but still a beauty. After all, a pirate did love his corruption. Any city where a coin or two could make the authorities look the other way was a good one, in his opinion. Not this time, though. His run was short, but he was willing to accept that. Everything had to end sooner or later. Foxy would have much rather it been later, but this was fate's plan. If the Gods wanted him dead, then by the five hells he'd be struck down.

It was the day. His hanging was in only an hour, give or take thirty minutes. All the survivors would be in attendance. They DID think he bombarded the city, after all. He wouldn't be surprised if they brought fruit to throw at him. Still, Foxy couldn't help but feel some sort of bile in his stomach, a sort of pit... A blackness... He wasn't fear or anxiety... or, rather, not THAT kind of anxiety. He did not fear death. Death was a simple, cruel fact of life. It happened and it was regular, common place among a society of pirates, thieves, kings, and war. Kings, thieves and even pirates would either change or die out completely, but two things never changed... never left... War and death. Then what was his sickness? His illness? The bile, the acid in his stomach? It was a hard thing to pin down. In the end, he came to ignore it and looked the Galleon masters dead in the eyes when they came to his cell with shackles.

* * *

As he stepped onto the platform, surrounded by guards and the like, his suspicion was correct: most, if not all, of Ursius was there, gawking at him as though he were a demon, slighted with hatred and ill-will. It was a formal occasion, apparently, as most of those in attendance were in their best, or whatever best they still had from the mounds of rubble and ash. Sure, much of it was rough around the edges, but they were well enough off. The vollies hadn't destroyed too much of the inner city, as a matter of fact. It was almost flattering. Foxy looked up, noting the cloudless skies and shimmering armor along city square roof-tops. Twenty Galleon masters in all looked upon him, pistols primed and swords settled snugly on their hips. Some of them weren't Ursians. Most of them weren't, actually. One or two held the figure. Bricks and plots where buildings once stood dotted the city, especially around the square. The one building, though battered and broken, that stood tall, however, was the Church... The Temple of the Gods... And it's single golden bell out looking the span of the population. She did not right. She hardly moved at all.

"Prisoner," came a stern voice from behind him. "You are charged with Piracy, murder, theft, destruction of the King's property, and desolating the motherland, Ursius. You defense is non-existent. Your remorse is less so. By Order of the King, by the conviction of the people of Ursius, in the name off the hundreds of lives you wrongfully took from this world, I sentence you, Foxworth of Lenaus, to death." There was a rapid drum-roll as the executioner stepped to the lever. His burly paws gripped hard to the wooden stock. Foxy took one deep breath, closing his still working eye and turning his nose to the clouds. He was a pirate and THIS was a Pirate's fate. The noose was fitted snug around his neck, hugging the contours of it. Then, there was a snap and the level jerked back... The platform under him fell as he did... but, when the rope went taunt, it screeched shrilly then snapped clean in half.

Just as soon as the Lenan hit the dirt below, a barrage of musket shots lit the air around him. His gaze shot about the crowd, watching as the mass of bodies rushed this way and that. He scrambled to his feet, losing himself in the blurry mass. Then, something took hold of his left paw. It pulled him through the crowd, in what direction, he wasn't sure. Muskets and pistols continued to fire and were soon accompanied by the steel clanks of swords. He was lead in a twisted path through the panic and then into the streets, equally alit with confusion and rush. He could now easily see who was leading him and was surprised to see it was someone he didn't know. It was a Gypsy, a purple hair. He was plain and wore a simple red bow-tie. Foxy inwardly scoffed at the damned thing. He thought they looked ridiculous.

As the creature lead him into the alley, he found his voice. "Who're ye?" he asked. The hare's large ears twisted back as they swerved through the passages.

"A friend," he simply responded before they were met half way through by a young female in a white dress. She was an oddly colored hen, Foxy being sure that those her age were suppose to grown white feathers. The lass was also very obviously pregnant, making her roll in this an odd one. She threw a cloak over the Lenan's shoulders and flicked the hood over his ears.

"Alright," she said, "That'll do. Come on, you have a ship to catch." Foxy would've asked, but was quickly dragged out onto the streets near the docks, still crippled and broken from the months prior. Workers, both for the repair or the grudging norms of the yard, scrambled this way and that, Galleon masters among them in frantic search. They were searching for him. Foxy quickly lifted his long tail up into the cloak, in the hopes that a observant officer hadn't seen it. He was wrong however as the Ursian tore after him.

"You! In the drape! Stop!" He rushed for them, gaining fast. Foxy's two companions tried to their most lenient extent to seem oblivious to the Galleon master, but even they had limits. In time, the Hare took Foxy's right fore-arm and broke into the sprint. His friend tried her best, but the poor girl was heavily burdened. They didn't stop, though. They ran as fast as they could, heading for a destination that Foxy was void the knowledge of. Then, with the officer nipping at their heels, they turned into a bed along the side of a minor combat sloop. She wasn't anywhere as nice as La Pirata Cala, but she'd most defiantly do. If they could escape the officers, that is.

Foxy tried to fight the urge to look back, not wanting the man to see his muzzle, but the nagging overwhelmed him. He glanced back over his left shoulder, but did so just in time to see a form spring out from behind a stack of crates. The creature was an Ursian, fur a dark brown and body well groomed and strong. He wore a black top hat and damned bow-tie about his neck to match it. He grabbed the Galleon master's sword and swiftly smacked its butt into the creatures head. One would imagine that the helm was enough to take the edge off, but the Officer fell like a rock to the wooden platform. The Ursian turned and barreled after them, crystal eyes on fire with a spark of pure excitement. He caught up to them just as the three loaded onto the ship.

The grizzly took no time in orchestrating the final faze. "Vaha, take her out and away. Full sail. Don't mind the fishers. They'll move!" A familiar white vixen stood ready at the helm, saluting the bear and calling for full sail out of the bed. The wind was in their favor and shoved them into the bay, out past the boats and,thankfully, the spur of Galleon masters who tried and failed to land musket shot after musket shot through her hull. They were gone in not time, Ursius but a sparkling jewel in the near distance. Foxy, still struggling to process it all, just stared... watching with heavy breaths. "So," came a soft voice from his right, "You hear anything good about Gouden Duivel?" The Lenan turned his head to meet Freddy's Crystal gaze.

"Nay, lad. Me'd rather much talk 'bout ye. How ye' gone just get up n' leave yer home like that?"

"I was born and raised there, Captain, but she isn't my home."

"Then war be yer home, lad?" Freddy tilted his head, removing the top-hat and tossing it off to the side.

"With my Captain." Foxy scoffed and leaned over the banister, looking back at the two new-comers who were leaving to relax below-deck.

"N' what of the greeners?"

"They're good people. Long time friends. We can trust them. I give you my word."

"Well, yer word means a lot, lad... 'specially considerin' that yer me new first mate..." Freddy's ears lowered, eyes wide... but oddly considerate. He took a long, deep breath.

"Foxy... I appreciate it... but... Isn't it a little... soon to..."

"Lad..." Foxy patted the Ursian's shoulder, noting the soft wince the bear gave as he did so and his amber eye went soft. "Michael is... irreplacible... as a person. He had his share'a good n' bad... He was a good mate... n' a better friend... But, I see no one more suited t'take his place as first mate... Does ye know how me knows? Yer father told me... He told you... Yer strong... Passionate... and someone who's been through hell wit' me. Ye've helped me see thin's me never would'a saw wit'out ye. Even wit' me... lack'a depth perception." They both gave a low chuckle before locking eyes once more, a soft smile across Freddy's muzzle. "Me's sure Mike would'a ageed wit' me." Foxy Mirrored the expression and Freddy gave a gentle nod.

"Then, I accept."

"One thin', though, lad... Bow-ties are ridiculous. Take it off."

A heavy snort broke from the Ursian's nostrils. "By the Gods, don't you know how to ruin a moment! I had to blend in!"

"Ye can tell yer friend, too. Ye both look like nannies. Ye could'a just wore the hat, 'er a suit, 'er anythin' but a bow-tie."

"You know what? Imma wear this all the time, now. The hat, too. It'll be my uniform and you'll have to look at me and my stupid bow-tie every damned day for the rest of your life. That sound fantastic, Foxworth?" The Lenan smiled.

"Only if ye sings fer me... Ye has a wonderful voice, lad... I'm sure yer parents would be proud'a ye... Fer everythin' ye've managed t'do... Ye isn't perfect... No one is... But you, lad, wear imperfections with the most grace me's ever seen. If me has t'spend the rest'a me life pallin' 'round ye, even in that stupid tie, me life will be made whole... So long as I die wit' a friend by me side..." Freddy didn't respond to it beyond a considerate smile. He didn't need to. Sometimes... silence is the best gratitude. It didn't last long, though, as Bonnie came rushing on deck moments later, a dazed and anxious look upon his muzzle.

* * *

_AN~ WE MADE IT! WOOP WOOP! HA HA! Yes, it is finally over and I have to tell you, I am EXHAUSTED, but it was worth it. This became something so much more than I could have ever imagined. There were times when I wanted to stop it, delete it and forget the idea altogether, but I'm so glad I didn't. Thank you for reading and see you again very soon. _


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